


I'll Take My Chances

by Tripped



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Alternate Universes, Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tripped/pseuds/Tripped
Summary: When Nursey wakes up, no one else on the Samwell Men’s Hockey team has heard of William Poindexter.





	1. One in Four

The first thing Nursey thinks about when he wakes is Dex, like he always does, because his brain never seems to catch up with his heart in the mornings. Or maybe it does, and they’re both plotting against him, because Nursey’s already torturing himself wondering if Dex is brushing his teeth, or taking a shower, or if he’s just woken up in a grumpy daze, eyes not fully opened, staring blankly at the wall, sitting up in bed with his arms laying lazily by his side.

The second thing Nursey notices is the striking pain on his forehead; the result of a fall or knock which Nursey can’t yet remember. He reaches out to prod it with his fingers, expecting the sting of a throbbing, fresh bruise. Instead, he feels nothing, and the pain dissipates, as if it were never there. He would find this unusual, if it weren’t hell-o’clock on a practice morning, and he wasn’t waking from an intensely restful four-hour sleep.

Nursey shakes himself out of his head. Tiredly, he grabs for the phone on his side dresser. Six minutes to his alarm. He smiles, but only internally, because his facial muscles are still sleeping and never got the memo. That’s six more minutes of sleep, then, he thinks.

Crawling back in his bed and pulling the covers over his head, Nursey fails to notice that the window on his dorm room is on the wrong side, and that the arrangement of his room is not the same as it was yesterday. Six minutes later, when he’s groaning himself out of bed to the shrill, incessant beeping of his alarm, he fails to notice the different colour of his wallpaper, the softer carpet, and lower ceiling. And when he’s wrapping a scarf around his neck and dragging himself to practice, he fails to notice that his dorm room is in a different location all together; that’s he’s on the fifth floor and not the third, that he has to walk _across_ the bridge to get to Faber, and not _beside_ it, that it takes him fifteen minutes and not five.

In hindsight, Nursey thinks much, much later, this should have been his first clue.

\--

He’s even later to practice than he usually is, but it doesn’t feel like it, because Dex’s stall is empty, and he always arrives five minutes early to Nursey’s five minutes late. He dumps his bag at his stall, and lets the bustle of grumpy, sleep-deprived, not-yet-verbal-at-this-time-of-morning hockey players and the sounds of Bittle’s Beyoncé playlist wash over him. He feels like something’s not quite right, like he’s missing something, but it’s too early for him to grasp. He nods at Chowder, who is sitting by the stall next to him.

“Hey, where’s Dex?” Nursey asks, lifting his undershirt over his head.

“Dex? Is that what you’re calling him now?” Chowder replies, lacing up his skates.

“He’s never been this late before,” Nursey says, not registering Chowder’s response.

Chowder laughs. “Yeah, okay,” he says, cheerily. “Haven’t heard that one before.” He walks off before Nursey can ask what he means, and Nursey is left alone at his stall. Dex must already be on the ice _,_ Nursey supposes. But that didn’t make sense either – Dex always ran through plays with Nursey before a practice. Except when he was angry at him. Did Nursey make him angry? He recounts all the previous interactions he’s had with him over the past couple days, but draws a blank.

“Hey Nurse, hurry up,” Ransom calls from the doorway. Nursey snaps up, looking around the room. The music’s stopped, and the locker room’s empty – he must have gotten lost in thought. “You pull an all-nighter or something?” Ransom asks.

Nursey shakes his head, his eyes catching on Ransom’s jersey. He’d felt strange all morning, and something about Ransom’s jersey was throwing him off. Nursey’s squints in confusion, tracing the lines on Ransom’s jersey, before he spots it. Ransom eyes him curiously.

“Yo, Ransom,” Nursey says. “Where’s your ‘A’?” 

Ransom blinks. “My ‘A’?”

“Yeah, y’know, the ‘A’ on your jersey. The alternate captain ‘A’?” Nursey states, dropping down to lace his skates. When he looks back up, Ransom’s eyes are downcast, and his lips are pursed thin. “Uhh—” Nursey says.

“Adam’s a great captain.” Ransom interrupts, before quickly turning away and heading towards the ice. “Get going, or you’ll be later than Randy,” he calls from the hallway, his voice unusually cold. Nursey pauses, unsure of what had just happened, before jumping up and following him down to the rink.

The thirty-second walk to the rink already has him feeling more awake and more confused than ever as he processes the last two interactions he’d had this morning. Coach Murray’s voice echoes down into the hallway – clearly he’s giving them a pre-practice lecture again. As Nursey reaches the stands, he glances at Ransom, who is whispering something to Holster. He sets himself down next to Chowder, and notes his furrowed eyebrows and calculating expression. He can’t spot Dex.

“No, I don’t get it,” Chowder whispers, suddenly. “Why did you call him Dex?”

Nursey blinks. “Uhh— Poindexter? Dexter? Dex?” he replies, incredulously, shaking his head. “Did you really not know why we call him Dex?”

“…Poindexter?” Chowder asks. Nursey opens his mouth, then closes it again. He’s not quite sure what Chowder’s asking.

“His… his last name?” Nursey tries. Coach Murray’s booming voice resonates across the stands, but Nursey can’t hear a single word he’s saying.

“What, Randall?” Chowder replies.

Nursey huffs out an unsure laugh. “Okay, okay. I get it. You’re fucking with me.” But Chowder only looks more confused. Coach Murray raises his eyebrows at the two of them, but doesn’t stop lecturing.

“No, _you’re_ – um…” Chowder looks around, before softening his voice. “ _You’re_ f-ing with me.” Chowder replies, through his teeth.

Nursey opens his mouth to reply, but before he can say anything, a voice calls out from behind him. “Sorry I’m late, Coach.” Nursey freezes.

“Yeah, you’re always sorry,” Murray says, sighing. “Sit.”

“Yo, Nurse,” the voice whispers, tapping him on the shoulder. Nursey turns around slowly, afraid to confirm what had been nagging in the back of his mind ever since Chowder had answered him that morning. His eyes catch on the jersey first. #24. He looks up.

Sitting beside him, hair dark, ears small, face freckle-less and figure broad is a total, complete and utter stranger. The stranger holds his hand out for a fist-bump. Nursey glances at the fist, then back to the stranger.

“Who the fuck are you!?”

\--

_“I’m just saying,” Dex says, crouching in front of Betsy, spanner in hand, “Ransom has more game knowledge. He’s the smarter pick.” He fumbles for a screwdriver amidst the clutter of tools laid beside him. Light filters through the blinds and spills into the kitchen, bringing promises of a warm Spring afternoon._

_Nursey hops onto the table. “Yeah but Holster has more charisma. Like, did you hear his speech that one game last Frozen Four? I’m pretty sure you cried,” he replies, flicking open his can of beer. He watches as Dex’s neck tinges pink._

_“Fuck off. It was a good speech.” Dex huffs. “Ransom’s a better leader though, I reckon. Pass me the duct tape?” Nursey takes a swig before passing Dex the tape from the kitchen bench._

_“I dunno man, I’m pretty sure Holster’s like, Ransom’s ‘behind the scenes’, y’know?” Nursey says. “The dude’s prevented some major Ransom breakdowns.”_

_Dex pauses, before turning round to face him, eyebrows furrowed. “I always thought Ransom was Holster’s ‘behind the scenes’.”_

_“Dude. Bro.” Nursey‘s eyes shine with childlike wonder. “What if they like, complete each other?”_

_Dex scrunches his nose. “Fucking gross,” he says, before turning back to Betsy and taping up some loose wiring._

_“I dunno man,” Nursey smirks, “I think it’s pretty hashtag bromantic.”_

_Dex stops what he’s doing to let his head fall back, glaring at Nursey upside-down. “We talked about this, Derek,” he protests. “We talked about the hashtags.” He sits back up._

_Nursey grins, hopping off the table, but his toe catches on a stray screwdriver, causing him to lose his footing. For a second, he panics, feeling the weight beneath him disappear, as his feet strike only air, arms flailing wildly. Dex lifts his arms, catching him from underneath, and Nursey lets out a breath, feeling Dex’s solid weight beneath him, keeping him inches from the ground. Derek’s cheek brushes against Dex’s, and he grins teasingly._

_“This is pretty hashtag bromantic too.”_

_Dex turns to stare at him for a few seconds, their faces almost touching, before he lets go, causing Nursey to fall to the floor. Nursey squawks. “Never talk to me again,” Dex says._

_Nursey sits up, making grabby hands at Dex. “Deeexyyy,” he calls. “You complete me.”_

_Dex flushes red and shoves him aside._

\--

No one else on the Samwell Men’s Hockey team has heard of William Poindexter.

Not Chowder, not Bitty, not Lardo, not Holster or Ransom, not Tango or Whiskey. Not even the coaches. When practice ends, and Nursey pulls out his phone to call Dex’s compsci friends, his phone password has changed. And when he runs desperately to one of Dex’s classes, interrogates Dex’s friends, Nursey’s own friends, even Dex’s professors, none of them even blink at the name.

He takes back his original statement. No one else, in the entirety of Samwell’s staff and students, has heard of William Poindexter.

At that thought, Nursey’s blood runs cold.

And then there’s Randy. #24. The stranger. Randy, who’s apparently been Chowder’s best friend, Holster’s econ buddy, and Nursey’s D-man partner for the past two years. Randy, who’s replaced Dex, and no one even seems to notice or care.

At that thought, Nursey’s blood runs sub-zero.

And so now, with Nursey sitting on the Haus couch, his teammates observing him concernedly, he narrows the situation down to three possibilities. One. Nursey is the victim of one of the most elaborate, far-reaching and psychologically messed-up pranks of all time. Two. Nursey’s either dreaming, or experiencing a psychotic and extremely realistic hallucination. Or three. Nursey is stuck in a parallel universe where Dex doesn’t exist.

Nursey brings his hands to his face, and runs his fingers through his puffy hair, now streaked with sweat. None of the options made any sense, but one of them had to be true. He coughs pointedly. Holster, Ransom and Lardo startle from their hushed conversation. Chowder and Bitty look up from their position on the floor.

“So,” he begins, “if this is a prank, which like, realistically, it probably is, I’m pretty sure this counts as gaslighting.”

The trio look at each other. Holster nudges Ransom, who nudges Holster back. Lardo sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Nursey, bro, we don’t have time for this,” she snaps, turning her death glare at Nursey.

Nursey balls his hands. “Yeah, and I don’t have time for this either, so just tell me where Dex is, alright?!” he exclaims. “Does he not want to see me? Is that it? Did I do something wrong?”

“Who. The fuck. Is Dex?” Lardo grits.

“Dude, just tell us,” Ransom sighs. “We’ve gotta plan for the kegster. We don’t have time for your bullshit.”

At Nursey’s confused expression, Holster nudges Ransom again. “I _told_ you, we gotta take him to the hospital…” Holster murmurs.

Nursey panics. “No— I don’t— I’m not sick, dudes,” he stammers. But maybe he is. Maybe this whole thing is— he shakes himself out of it. _Think, Derek,_ he tells himself, but his inner voice sounds suspiciously like Dex’s. _Don’t panic. Breathe._ Oh god, maybe he is going crazy. He feels all of the eyes in the room on him. He clutches his phone tighter. _Wait. The phone._

“Wait,” he says, “I need someone’s phone.” Chowder looks at the rest of the team, before slowly handing Nursey his phone. With shaking hands, Nursey enters a number he’d spent many a night memorising; staring at the contact details on his fluorescent screen on the nights when sleep seemed so far away. He lifts it to his ear.

_“The number you have called has been disconnected.”_

He grips the phone tighter and tries the number again. He couldn’t have gotten it wrong.

_“The number you have called has been disconnected.”_

Nursey shakes his head frantically. He wouldn’t have… Dex wouldn’t have... Chowder tries to pry his phone from Nursey’s grip, his expression a painting of concern. “Derek—”

“No, no, no,” Nursey shakes, “Dex wouldn’t… he’s always…” _Think,_ Dex’s voice says again. He clutches harder on the phone, pulling it from Chowder’s grasp, and types into Google ‘William Poindexter’. He skims through the links. 100,000 results. Too many to look through. He drops the phone, and a dead silence washes through the Haus. A chilly breeze whips through, sending a shiver down Nursey. He watches as Bitty absently thumbs his phone; watches Chowder’s eyes, glazed over, lost in thought. Suddenly, Chowder’s eyes widen.

“William Poindexter…” Chowder says, slowly. “I… I know him…” Derek’s head shoots up.

“You do?”

“Isn’t that— I mean, it was like, ages ago, but we— we played against his team, right? At Frozen Four? The— the redhead from MIT?” Chowder stammers.

Nursey frowns. Picking up the phone, he types ‘William Poindexter MIT hockey’ and clicks on the first link. Sure enough, Dex’s familiar face reflects back at him; the same freckles, dotted against his face, the same big, goofy ears, the same familiar grouchy expression, filling Nursey’s heart with warmth. _Okay_ , he thinks. _Okay._ Dex is at MIT. _Option number three it is – parallel universe. What the fuck._

“Yeah, yeah! That’s him, the one that Nursey wouldn’t shut up about after the game!” Holster exclaims, prodding at the phone screen. Nursey feels his face flood with heat. Ransom grins.

“He was all like—Bro. Bro,” Ransom starts drawling in a barely passable imitation of drunk Nursey. “I think I like, saw the universe in his eyes, man.”

“Nah it was like—Dude. Dude,” Holster joins in, his impression even worse than Ransom’s, “his freckles; they’re like stars, or— or constellations, or whatever.” Lardo whacks them both on the arm.

“He was at the Taddy Tour, too,” Randy pipes up from the doorway. Nursey jumps, having forgotten Randy’s presence. He doesn’t look at Randy, because he knows if he does, he won’t be able to control his somewhat irrational anger. _It’s not his fault._

“Nursey…” Bitty speaks up, softly. “What’s going on?” Nursey looks at Bitty’s kind eyes and wants to tell him everything.

“I think…” Derek swallows. _They’re gonna think you’re crazy_. “I think I’m in a parallel universe.”

\--

_“Dude,” Nursey says, looking over Dex’s shoulder, “that phone is hella ancient.” It’s small; a flip phone, with plastic peeling around the edges, tattered and worn. Dex is toying with it, throwing it back between his hands like a hacky sack, lost in thought. Without warning, Nursey snatches it from Dex mid-throw._

_“Hey!” Dex squawks. “What the fuck?” But Nursey’s already running across the park. Dex rolls his eyes heavenward, before chasing Nursey down. Nursey’s always been faster on the ice, but Dex learned how to sprint from years of high school track. He quickly catches up and tackles Nursey to the grass, making sure that the phone is cushioned in Derek’s hand. And then he’s laughing. They’re both laughing, taking gasping breaths._

_Derek rolls over to remove himself from Will, and turns the phone over in his hand. “Why— do you still— keep this— thing?” he asks breathlessly._

_Will shrugs, still panting. “It’s lucky,” he replies. His face is still flushed a pretty pink, but Derek can’t tell if it’s from the running or from embarrassment._

_Derek snorts. “I can’t believe I ever thought you weren’t superstitious.”_

_“Yeah, well…” Dex answers, face blank, eyes downcast. “It used to belong to my brother, but…”_

_“Oh,” says Derek, carefully, “did… did he…”_

_Dex snickers. “No, I’m fucking with you. I mean, it is my brother’s, but he just gave it to me ‘cos he got a new one.”_

_“You fucker!” Derek sputters, and Will cackles louder in response. Derek sighs, laying his head down on the grass. He watches Will, his legs outstretched, body upright, hands threading softly through the grass behind him. “What makes it so lucky?”_

_Will shrugs again. “I’ll tell ya later. I mean, it’s not going anywhere any time soon,” he sighs, grimacing._

_“It sounds like you want to get rid of the thing.”_

_Will huffs out a laugh. “I mean. Yeah? And no?” He shrugs. “It’s complicated. Just— I’m not_ trying _to get rid of— well, I kind of am…” He lifts a hand to his face. “It’s just… look, Derek. I’ll always answer this phone if you call, alright? Always.”_

_Derek blinks. “I don’t think I understand.”_

_Will turns to look down at him, smiling. It’s a precious smile – a private one, small and sweet and glowing in the sunlight. “Good,” he says, before hopping up and strolling back to the Haus._

_“Weirdo!” Nursey calls out after him._

\--

The Haus is silent, apart from the continuous back-and-forth elbowing contest taking place between Holster and Ransom. They’re all staring at Nursey, who is sinking ever-so-slowly back into the couch. No one says anything for a good minute. Somewhere in the back of his brain, Nursey notes that this is probably the longest time the Haus has been quiet for, but his chain of thought is broken when Lardo honest-to-god leaps on him and peers intensely into his eyes.

“What the _fuck_ are you on, Nursey!?” she snaps, right up in his face. Lardo squints, but apparently doesn’t find what she’s looking for, because she lets Nursey go and stands back up, brows furrowed in confusion and concern.

“He seems fine—” she states, “His eyes aren’t bloodshot… I don’t understand.”

“I _am_ fine!” Nursey exclaims. “I’m telling you, I know it sounds unbelievable, okay, but when I went to bed last night, I’m pretty sure that _Dex still went to Samwell_. And then when I woke up this morning, all of you started acting like he _never existed_!”

“Woah-kay, okay!” Holster booms. “So you’re trapped in a parallel universe… but what _kind_ of parallel universe; are we talking a Back to the Future alternate universe? The Matrix? Richie Rich’s Christmas Wish!?” Holster gasps. “Did you wish that this Dex guy never went to Samwell and it came true and now you regret it because you—”

“No, no,” Nursey interrupts, head in his hands, “I never _time travelled_ , I wasn’t living in _the matrix_ , and I never wished for Dex to disappear! I actually _like_ Dex, okay?”

There’s a pause. “So you _like_ him, huh?” Holster grins. “Like, like, _like_ like, or like, like, like?”

Everyone in the Haus blinks simultaneously. “What the—” Lardo begins to say.

“Like as in _like_ , alright?” Nursey says, frustrated. “But that’s not the point.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Ransom interrupts, “do you mean _like_ , as in, like, how Holster _like_ likes Esther Shapiro, or?”

“Fuck _off_ Ransom,” Holster groans.

“Fucking—” Nursey exclaims. “I like him like I _like_ him, _not_ like how Holster like likes Esther—” Holster facepalms somewhere in the background, “ _not_ how Chowder like likes Farmer,” he adds, nodding at Chowder, before nodding at Bitty, whose hands have come up to cover his mouth, “and _definitely not_ like how Bitty like likes J—” He stops, registering Bitty’s expression. His eyes are wide, panicked, pleading. Derek swallows. In that moment, Bitty looks so small. For some reason, finishing that sentence the way he was going to doesn’t sound like the best idea anymore.

“—like Bitty _like_ likes Beyoncé,” he finishes. He watches as Bitty exhales in obvious relief, and as the Haus nods in silent, serious agreement. Bittle and Beyoncé was no joking matter. “But again— not the fucking point!”

“Alright,” Lardo huffs, grabbing Nursey by the arm, “you’re obviously sleep deprived, so it’s bed-time for you.” She tries to yank him off the couch. Nursey blinks as she pulls, oblivious to her struggle.

“But it’s, like, five in the afternoon?” Chowder says. Lardo raises his eyebrows at him, and he backs down, shrinking back into the carpet.

“Sleep. Now!” Lardo demands, tugging unsuccessfully on Nursey’s arm. “Holster, Ransom. A little help?” They startle into action, but before they can reach him, Nursey jumps up. Lardo yelps, hanging from his bicep, before dropping onto the couch.

“I need some air,” Nursey mutters, making a bee-line for the door, pushing past Randy in the process.

He stumbles outside and plops himself on the steps of the Haus, wringing his hands together. It’s strange, sitting in a space so familiar yet so foreign. He sees all the little details now, and wonders how he didn’t notice them earlier that day. The steps are tattered and caving in, because Dex was never around to repair them. The window to the living room is still cracked and unfixed, letting cold gusts of air waft through occasionally. He sighs as the wind whips his skin, and burrows deeper into his scarf. He wonders where Dex is now. He wonders if he remembers Samwell. If he even remembers Derek at all. 

A hushed conversation from inside the Haus breaks his train of thought; “Ransom, go bring him in—” someone says. “ _You_ bring him back, _you’re_ the captain!” comes a reply. “Yeah, I am, and as captain, I’m telling you—”

“Oh shush, y’all!” Nursey hears Bitty say, “ _I’ll_ go talk to him.”

Moments later, Bitty gently opens the Haus door, wrapping himself in his own arms as the chill sinks in. Carefully, he sets himself down next to Nursey. “It’s cold out,” he says. “Why don’t we go inside? I promise they won’t rile you up anymore.” Nursey stays silent, and Bitty sighs. “I’d make you a pie, but, Betsy the Second’s on her last legs.”

“Yeah, because Dex hasn’t taken a look at her,” Nursey grumbles. Because Dex isn’t here. Dex doesn’t remember Betsy II, or Betsy, or Bitty, or Samwell, or Nursey. _But what if he did_.

“Look, I don’t really know what’s going on with this ‘Dex’ character, and this whole parallel universe thing, but—” Bitty says.

“What if he remembers?!” Nursey exclaims, shocking Bitty into falling onto his back. He yelps. “Sorry Bitty, but, what if… what if it isn’t just me stuck in this parallel universe? I mean, it can’t just be me right? What if _he’s_ like _me_!? And he’s out there, all confused and scared!” He pats his pockets wildly, searching for his car keys, before pulling them out and clutching them tightly.

“Nursey, oh lord, what are you doing? I’m not letting you _drive_ , especially in _this_ weather!” Bitty cries.

Nursey turns, and clutches Bitty’s shoulders tightly. “I have to find him,” he declares, staring resolutely into Bitty’s eyes. Bitty swallows, and Nursey lets him go. Bitty looks around, worriedly, before nodding quickly.

“Okay. Okay. But I’m driving,” he compromises, snatching the keys from Nursey’s hand. Nursey blinks as Bitty marches determinedly to Nursey’s car, his fingers tapping rapidly on his phone with his other free hand.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really. Now hurry up and get in so we can get back before dinner. And also so we can leave before I change my mind. And also before anyone in the Haus reads what I just tweeted,” Bitty huffs, hopping into the driver’s seat. Nursey hurdles into action, stumbling into the seat beside him.

As they drive off, a series of yells emanate from inside the Haus, “ _What!?_ ”

> **Eric Bittle** @omgcheckplease · Just now
> 
> Taking a night drive with one of my frogs. Guess which one? Hint: It’s chilly out. [Car emoji] [City emoji] [Snow emoji] [Moon emoji]

\--

Nursey sits upright in the passenger seat, and stares determinedly out the front window, lost in thought. Is Dex alright? Is he freaking out like Nursey is? At least Nursey’s still at Samwell; Dex must be so confused right now, being at an unfamiliar school with unfamiliar faces… He glances at Bitty, gripping the steering wheel tightly, as if he hasn’t driven in a long time. Distractedly, he wonders if this was a good idea.

Nursey taps on the phone that Bitty gave him for directions. “Next left,” he mumbles. Bitty’s phone chimes with several panicked texts from the team, but he ignores them, turning to his side, and watching as the sidewalk and the road blur together.

Bitty clears his throat deliberately, waking Nursey from his thoughts. “How— How did you know about me and Jack?” Bitty asks, biting his lip. Nursey blinks.

“Is that why you offered to drive? So you could ask me?” Nursey responds, and watches as Bitty considers his question, before giving him a tiny nod. Nursey shrugs, and reclines further in his seat.

“Did someone tell you about us?” Bitty asks, delicately.

Nursey gazes outside the passenger window; at the tall brownstones which line the sidewalk, a reminder of home. He’s cast back to the Haus, sitting wedged between Dex and Chowder on the green couch, as Bitty explains how he and Jack got together.

“ _You_ told me,” he says. “You told the whole team.” Bitty glances quickly at Nursey, notes the honesty in his eyes, then shakes his head, unbelievingly.

“Nursey— You… Oh lord. You really are from a parallel universe, aren’t you?” he replies softly, laughing uncertainly. The knuckles on his hands turn white.

“I think you’re the first person to believe me,” Derek says quietly. “Turn right.” The car descends into silence, except for the dull humming of the engine. Snow trickles down the windshield, and piles up on the hood of the car. The sun dips low on the horizon, illuminating the city with vibrant oranges, pinks and purples.

“Yo, Bitty,” Derek says to the window. “The team, all of us, you know we’ve all got your backs, right? We all support you guys. You have to know that.”

Bitty sniffs, and when Derek turns around, Bitty’s eyes are shiny with unshed tears. He nods. “Okay,” he says, giving Derek a watery smile. Derek grins in return.

“Trust me,” Derek says, “the worst thing that’ll happen is the chirping that Shitty’ll give you, or like, all the fines you’ll get from Dex so he can finally get the Haus a new—” He cuts off, grin quickly fading. Dex isn’t here. “Nevermind.”

The road stretches into the distance.

\--

It occurs to Nursey, after he’s knocked on the door to what he hopes is MIT’s Hockey House, that he doesn’t actually have a plan for what he’s going to do when he finds Dex. Like he’s gonna waltz in and say, ‘Hi, I’m from a parallel universe, are you from a parallel universe?’ Bitty stands meekly beside him, his body curled in on itself for warmth, probably texting Jack about the events of the day. The only light in the area comes from Bitty’s phone and a single streetlight, illuminating the block in an eerie glow. Nursey’s palms sweat, and he wipes it against his jeans. _Breathe_.

The door opens, and he’s met with a giant, muscled man, taller than Nursey himself, with dark hair and rigid features. The man evaluates the two of them with an unamused glare, and raises his eyebrows.

“Yo,” Nursey says, internally screaming. He leans on the doorframe. _Real smooth_. “Is Dex here?”

Muscle-man’s glare doesn’t waver. “Dex?” His voice is deep and rumbling. Bitty squeaks. Derek stumbles, then realigns himself.

“Sorry, I mean, William Poindexter.”

That earns him a response. “Oh, yeah man.” The man grins. “He’s in. Do you wanna wait for him inside?”

Nursey’s heart skyrockets in anticipation, but he keeps his cool. “Nah, we’ll wait out here, if that’s chill with you.” He feels his legs start to give way, but he rights himself. Bitty places a warm hand on his back.

“Suit yourself,” the man drones, before turning around and padding down the hallway. “Yo, Pointy! You’ve got visitors!” he bellows.

There’s a long silence as they wait. Nursey can feel every pump of his heart, can hear each puff of air he breathes ring in his ears. Judging by Bitty’s worried expression, Bitty can hear all of Nursey’s heartbeats too. Quick footsteps echo from behind the hallway before a figure pops into view. Nursey stops breathing.

It’s Will. It’s definitely Will. He’s a little skinnier, and his hair is a bit longer and more ruffled, but the speckles on his face, the way he holds himself, almost hunched, shoulders raised defensively, hands bunched into his pockets, is achingly familiar. His ears, that stick out goofily on either side. The way he chews his lip. His eyes, warm and burning. He’s gorgeous. Will paws at his neck, and Nursey tracks the movement. An oversized woollen jumper and ratty grey sweatpants hang lazily on his body. Will comes to a stop in front of the pair, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Uh. Hi?” he says, without recognition. Derek’s stomach drops, and the words catch in his throat. Bitty looks between the two, before nudging Derek, who startles.

“Hey, Dex! Umm…” Nursey blinks. “Do you… do you—”

“Let me guess,” Dex sighs, “you’re both like, gay, or bi, or something, right?”

Derek opens his mouth, then closes it again, taken aback. Bitty blinks in astonishment, before giggling out of pure shock. “Uh… I mean, we are, but…” Derek falters.

Dex calls back into the hallway, “ _Two_ guys? Really, Skinny!?” He turns back to Nursey and Bitty. “Look, I’m real sorry, alright, Skinny keeps trying to set me up with all these guys ever since I came out to him and it’s like, really fucking awkward, but I’m not loo—” He glances at Nursey, swallowing, before starting again. “I’m not looking for anything right now, so. Sorry.” He moves to shut the door, and Nursey almost lets him, before he remembers what he came here for. He pushes his palm against the door.

“Wait,” he breathes, “that’s not— that’s not why we’re here.” He stares desperately into Will’s eyes. “Do you… recognise me? At all?” he asks.

Dex considers him. “Um,” he says, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

The pure lack of recognition on Will’s face breaks some piece of Derek inside. He doesn’t speak. He didn’t prepare for this. For this feeling, like his insides are being compressed, pushed inwards into a tight ball. The feeling like he’s lost something so important, even though what he’s lost is standing right in front of him. Even though, rationally, _his_ Will is still out there, waiting for him to come back.

“Well. I’m terribly sorry, this has just been a big misunderstanding,” Bitty says, gently. He tugs at Nursey’s sleeve, and Nursey lets himself be pulled away from the doorway, eyes downcast. “It was nice to meet you. We’ll be out of your hair.”

It’s metres down the pathway when Dex calls out from behind them. “Hey! Wait! You guys are from Samwell, right?”

Nursey looks up, his back still facing Dex.

Dex starts again. “Yeah, I remember. We played against you that one time at Frozen Four. You guys are fast,” he calls. “I went to your Taddy Tour, too. I might’ve seen you there as well.”

Nursey looks back down. “Yep,” he says, without turning around, voice empty, “that’s us.” He trudges to the car.

“Well… um…” Dex stutters, confused, “see you, I guess.”

Bitty turns to smile at him, before guiding Nursey back to the car. He hears the door of the Hockey House shut close. Nursey climbs into the passenger seat, and curls into a ball, his arms wrapped tightly around his front. Bitty enters the driver’s seat and places a comforting hand on Nursey’s shoulder. Nursey feels the tears threaten to trickle down his cheeks. Absurdly, he wonders if his tears would freeze to his face in the chill of the night, and he chuckles wetly to himself.

“Oh, Nursey,” Bitty sighs, “it’ll be better in the morning.”

Nursey nods as Bitty starts the car and turns into the street. It’d be better in the morning.

\--

_“I actually—” Dex stops. “You’re gonna think it’s stupid.” They’re sitting on the porch of the Haus, watching as the sun casts a pinkish light on the trees and buildings around them._

_Nursey chuckles. “Not an irregular occurrence.”_

_“Shut up,” Dex says, turning away. Nursey can see the edge of a smile that grows before quickly disappearing as Dex chews on his lip. He turns back to face Nursey, looking determinedly below his eye line. “I actually… I flipped a coin to decide my university.” Nursey blinks._

_“No way, really?” he says. “I thought you would’ve like, I dunno, written a pros and cons list or some shit. Sounds like something you’d do.”_

_“Yeah, well… It was either here or—” Dex stops. He takes a breath. “It was either here or… MIT.” There’s a pause for Derek to register what he said._

_“You WHAT?” Nursey exclaims. “M-fucking-IT? And you chose Samwell?” He knows he’s being unchill, but he can’t help himself. Dex had chosen Samwell over one of the best universities in the world… all because of a coin flip? Dex laughs as he takes in Nursey’s shocked expression._

_“Chill, Nurse,” he smirks. “I couldn’t decide. Genuinely.” He quietens, and starts to pick at his fingernails. “I wanted to go here.”_

_“Why?” Derek asks. Samwell wasn’t a bad school, particularly, but it was far from the same level as MIT. Throwing away an admission to MIT for a school like Samwell? Derek couldn’t fathom it. “Really, why?” he repeats. Will rubs his fingers gently before linking his hands together. Derek watches as his knuckles tense and relax, like a grounding heartbeat, or like he’s squeezing an invisible stress ball, giving him strength._

_“Because,” Will mumbles. “One in four.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Dex smirks. He looks visibly more relaxed, almost weightless. Something skips in Derek’s heart, and he feels his chest expanding. The streetlights flicker on as the sun fades behind the clouds, turning the once pinkish sky purple._

_“I, uh… I actually flipped a coin too,” Derek admits. “To decide.”_

_“Are you serious?” Dex huffs. “And you gave me shit for flipping a coin?”_

_“I wasn’t giving you anything. It’s just that flipping a coin sounds like something that I’d do, not something you’d do, y’know?” Derek replies. Dex appears to think about it, before nodding. Nursey sighs. “It was between Samwell and Bridges University, back in New York.” Dex doesn’t respond, and the conversation lulls into silence. He watches as the sun buries itself behind the horizon, and further – as the sky fades from purple to black, and the stars grow ever brighter in the night sky._

_“I’m glad you ended up here,” Will whispers suddenly, looking at his shoes._

_“Yeah. I’m glad you ended up here too,” Derek says, eyes skyward. Something twinkles. “Guess the stars aligned, huh?”_

_“What?”_

_“The stars aligned. For both of us to be here, I mean. At Samwell,” Nursey clarifies._

_Dex chuckles, and shakes his head. “Nah. I mean. It’s only two coin flips, right? Twenty-five percent,” he states. “Those odds aren’t too bad.” Derek glances at Will fondly. Of course he’d do the math._

_“Twenty-five percent? One in four, then,” Derek says._

_“Yeah,” Will replies. “One in four.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fic, and I'm just a clueless Australian guy who knows nothing of US universities, hockey, or anything, so feel free to correct me if I make any weird errors (Apparently, MIT shut their varsity hockey program, so, whoops). Also, it's all written in Australian/UK English, so if you're from the US, or normally read US English, just ignore all the 'colour/color' and 'realise/realize' differences if you can. Comments and kudos are appreciated. The other chapters are coming soon!


	2. Back to the Future

_Nursey finds Dex sitting comfily on the Haus couch, immersed by the TV screen, with a blanket scrunched up affectionately in his lap and a bowl of popcorn by his side. He watches as Dex digs through the bowl, taking handfuls of popcorn at a time. Amused, Nursey vaults over the back of the couch and lands on it with a thump. Dex doesn’t react._

_“Yo,” Nursey says, poking his side. Dex slaps his hand away. “What’re you watching?”_

_“Porn,” Dex says casually, eyes never leaving the screen. “Hardcore fetish stuff. Your kinda thing.” Nursey shoves him, and Dex breaks, cackling._

_“Ay, no kink-shaming alright?” Nursey replies, digging into the popcorn bowl. “Besides, I’m vanilla A-F.”_

_“You say that, but no one believes you,” Dex chirps._

_“Whatever.” Nursey tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth, before promptly choking. He coughs, affronted. “Dude, are these unsalted?”_

_Dex, still glued to the screen, tries to eat his smirk. “Maybe.”_

_“That is_ foul _,” Nursey grimaces, rolling the popcorn around in his mouth. On screen, Marty McFly speeds a DeLorean down an empty 1950’s suburban road. Nursey adjusts his position on the couch, sinking comfortably into the cushions. Distantly, he hears the sound of Bitty humming from the kitchen. Nursey goes for another piece of popcorn, but on the first chew, he screws up his face._

 _“Okay, no, I can’t do this,” Nursey whines. “How can you eat this? Do you actually_ like _it like this?” Nursey glares at the popcorn bowl, insulted._

_Dex shrugs, grabbing another handful and stuffing his mouth. “Got used to it, I guess,” he says, almost inaudibly, mouth still full of popcorn. He swallows. “My mum used to buy the unsalted stuff, but I’d get too impatient to add salt, so I’d eat it without. And when my brother would complain about it I just pretended I liked it that way in order to spite him. Guess it grew on me.”_

_Nursey stares for a beat, before giggling uncontrollably. Somewhere in his brain, he registers that it’s probably embarrassing and totally unchill of him to be giggling like an actual schoolgirl, but he can’t help himself. Dex’s story was just about the most Dex thing he’s ever heard._

_“What?” Dex says obliviously, under Nursey’s unrestrained laughter. On screen, the DeLorean disappears as it’s struck by a spark of electricity, leaving flaming tire tracks in its wake. Nursey grins._

_“So do you think if I went back in time and salted your popcorn for you, you’d be less of a stubborn prick all of the time?” Nursey chirps. “Or are you just naturally salty?”_

_Dex groans and sinks back into the couch. “Shut the fuck up, Nurse,” he says to Nursey’s entirely too proud face. Nursey cackles. “Besides,” Dex mutters, “it depends on what type of time travel, anyway.” Nursey raises an eyebrow._

_“Well, like, if it’s the Prisoner of Azkaban model then the past is already set in stone since there’s only one timeline, but if you use the model where you like, go back into your past self’s body, you wouldn’t be old enough to drive and break into my house, so,” Dex rambles, “it’d have to be the Back to the Future model, since you can go back and forward and shit and create a new, alternate timeline, but you’d have to be careful of the time paradoxes and accidentally breaking your parent’s marriage, etcetera, etcetera.” Dex turns to face Nursey, and finds him gazing at Will, entranced. “What?” Will mumbles, embarrassed._

_“You’ve really thought this through, Poindexter,” Nursey says, smirking._

_“Fuck off,” Dex replies, face flushed. Nursey admires the blush on his cheeks, the redness of his ears._

_He scratches his beard. “But like, the whole Back to the Future thing doesn’t even make sense, I mean, he changed the past right?” Nursey suggests, “But somehow his parents still managed to conceive the exact same child even though the timeline changed? Like, what are the chances? In fact, shouldn’t Marty McFly, like, literally be a different person after he changed the past?”_

_Dex blinks at him. “I have those exact same feelings,” he breathes, awed. “But it still doesn’t dispute the fact that Back to the Future is the greatest movie of all time,” he states._

_“You really like this movie, huh?” Derek smiles. “What is it, the time travel stuff?”_

_“Nah,” Dex says, chewing on another handful of popcorn, “I just like it when Biff gets punched in the face.” He grins, mouth full, and Nursey can see the bits of popcorn stuck between his teeth. On screen, the credits begin rolling._

\--

“Dex,” Nursey mumbles, waking slowly, his fingers curled gently against his sheets. A beam of sunlight assaults Nursey’s eyelids, causing him to flinch further into his blanket. He sprawls out languidly, recalling the events of the day before. _Um, I’m sorry, who are you?_ Dex’s voice replays itself, echoing in the caverns of his chest. Bitty said it’d be better in the morning, but it _is_ morning, and Nursey can still feel the same, suffocating feeling settling heavily in his stomach, his throat, his heart. They’d let him sleep on the Haus couch, but he’d stayed awake for most of the night, replaying, replaying, replaying. _Um, I’m sorry, who are you?_ The couch wasn’t very comfortable either, which was no help, especially with his height which made the arms of the couch keep digging into his legs…

Nursey shifts. Why did the couch feel… bigger… and softer...? And when did he get a pillow?

He bolts upright. He’s in a bed. The room is unfamiliar; solid red brick, wooden panelled floors, a weathered bookshelf tucked cosily in the corner. The room’s contents, however, are achingly familiar; his worn books, peeling at the edges, poetry, novels, essays, a photograph of him and his parents, carefully framed by his dresser, post-it-notes, plastered on walls, doors, the ceiling, even. A pile of unwashed clothes lies in another corner. _Yep, definitely my room in an alternate universe_ , he thinks. _Alright_. _No biggie. You’ve just accidentally fallen into_ another _parallel universe. Again._

As he slides out of bed, he considers his plan of action. First. Find out where he is. Second. Find out where Dex is. Third. Find out how he can get to where Dex is. He nods to himself. _Good plan, good plan._

He’s about two seconds into formulating a fourth step when a violent knock shocks him out of his thoughts. He stares at the door, frozen and wide-eyed. Before he can even react, it opens itself, revealing a woman, only a few inches shorter than Derek, with long, flowing, black hair, wearing ripped jeans, an oversized jacket, and a murderous expression.

“You want to explain what happened yesterday, Nurse?” she bites, crossing her arms intimidatingly.

Nursey blinks. “Oh. Um.” There’s a post-it note stuck next to the door, and he squints to read it. An arrow points to the doorway, where the woman is standing, and written in an almost illegible loopy script which is recognisably Derek’s own are the words ‘Probably Alice’. He looks to the woman again. “Hi… A-Alice?” he tries, slowly.

She’s silent for long enough that Nursey descends into a mild panic. “Well, I’m glad you remember my name _today_ ,” she chides. Nursey exhales, while Alice regards him appraisingly. “Well? Yesterday?”

Nursey swallows his words, and tries for his best innocent expression.

“Oh god,” she says, “you’re thinking of going again.” She shakes her head.

“Going?” Nursey asks.

“To _Samwell_ ,” she sighs, exasperated. “Because that worked out so well yesterday.”

That wakes Nursey from his morning-coma. “Wait, woah, woah, woah,” he rushes, “am I not at Samwell?”

But Alice isn’t listening, walking into Nursey’s room and kicking absently at his pile of clothes. “But you’re a grown man, apparently—not in my opinion, but what can you do? So you go do what you want, I guess,” she grumbles. “Though, if you’re gonna go, please actually take your car this time so that I don’t have to drive a fucking hour to pick your sorry ass up again at midnight.” She picks up a pair of unfamiliar car keys from the dresser and tosses them at Nursey. “ _Why_ do I let you get away with these things?” she mutters, moving to leave.

“These aren’t—” He starts to say, but Alice is already out the door. Nursey turns the keys over in his hand. A Mercedes? He blinks, once, twice, then lunges at the window overlooking the street. Sure enough, a sleek, shiny, silver Mercedes, recently polished, is sitting prettily on the kerb, begging to be driven.

“Holy fucking shit,” he breathes.

“And try not to piss off the redhead even more that you already have!” Alice yells from the other room.

“Wait, what?”

There’s a fumble and the sound of footsteps, before Alice reappears, poking her head from around the corner. “The ginger? I mean, I don’t know why you’re onto _him_ all of a sudden, since it’s been like, almost a year since Frozen Four,” she says.

Derek swallows. “Dex?”

“I don’t know his name— look, Derek,” Alice sighs, and draws her hand to her face. “I’m not one to give _you_ advice about flirting, alright, but you seem a little out of it, so here goes. Firstly, that kid is either as straight as a fucking nail, or closeted, so that’s already a no-go zone. Secondly; plenty of other fish in the sea. Probably shouldn’t go for the spiky one that bites. Just putting that out there. And thirdly, you don’t flirt with a hockey player by _telling them they shouldn’t be on the team_! Like, c’mon man. Even I know that! Not cool.”

“Wait, _I_ said that!?” Nursey exclaims, horrified.

“Yeah,” Alice lectures, “it’s coming back to you now, isn’t it?” She turns, flicking her hair at him. “Just don’t do anything stupid. Oh wait, too late,” she calls, striding down the hallway.

She leaves Nursey to sit, dumfounded, on what is apparently his bed. Stunned, he reaches out to take the phone from atop his dresser, turning it over in his hands. On the back, on a faded blue and yellow sticker, is the logo for Bridges University. _Oh boy_ , he thinks.

\--

_“What the fuck was that!?” Dex yells at Nursey, skating off the ice. Nursey still feels the adrenaline thrumming in his veins, and he has no patience for Dex’s bullshit right now._

_“What was what?” he says, innocently, trying to skate past Dex. Dex moves to stop him._

_“You fucked up, like, the easiest passes! They were free, Nursey, and you somehow managed to fuck up all of them!” he spits, skating off._

_Maybe the worst part was that he was right; they were free passes. And he did fuck up all of them. But there was no reason for Dex to be so mad – he was already beating himself up over it, why should he have to deal with Dex, too? “Yo, chill,” Nurse mutters._

_Dex clenches his fists, and his whole body shakes with anger. His face blotches red. “Don’t fucking tell me to chill, Nurse!” he shouts. “If you don’t get it together we’re gonna get_ benched. _Do you care about that, at all? Why’d I have to go get paired with fucking_ you _!?”_

_Nursey rolls his eyes, pushing past Dex. “Yeah, okay, whatever,” Nurse dismisses, giving Chowder a look as if to say, ‘Can you believe this guy?’. Chowder scuttles off. He feels the irritation seeping into his bones, clouding his brain._

_“If we’d gone through the goddamn plays like I’d asked—”_

_“It’s a_ practice _, Dex. You ever heard of those? It_ doesn’t matter. _”_

_“Of course it fucking matters! We’re meant to improve in these practices, but all you’ve done is get worse!”_

_“Maybe if I had a partner who wasn’t such an uptight prick all the time—”_

_“You’re fucking_ insufferable _!”_

_Dex storms off, and Nursey wants to punch something. He heaves in frustration. Fuck everything._

\--

It seems that in every parallel universe, Nursey has a different phone password. This one’s a pattern code, overlayed over a background image of him and Alice, smouldering at the camera. He tries a ‘N’ shape for ‘Nursey, a malformed ‘D’ shape for ‘Derek’, a ‘M’ shape for ‘Malik’, then various other typical pattern codes before he’s met with the message, ‘This phone has been temporarily locked.’ He curses his creativity with passcodes. _This is what happens, Derek. You try to be ‘original’ and ‘alternative’, but all it does is screw over your alternate selves._

Distantly, he knows he’s stalling. He’s been parked right in front of the Samwell Haus for a good ten minutes now, with every intention of walking right up and knocking on the front door. But maybe he could sit here a bit longer and, like, fiddle with his phone some more. Or go get some breakfast. He could really go for some pancakes right now. _Your plan sucks,_ Dex’s voice chimes. He imagines Dex sitting in the passenger seat, eyes shut, hands tucked behind his headrest. _Are you just gonna walk in there and try and convince them that you’re one of their long lost teammates? They don’t even know you, and they’re definitely not going to believe you. I wouldn’t believe you._

 _But they’re all I’ve got,_ Derek replies. _I don’t want to go through this alone._

The Dex projection looks at Derek, one eyebrow raised challengingly. _Well, if you’re so set on going in, why are you just sitting here?_

Derek nods. “Right, right,” he mutters, before leaping out of his car in a sudden burst of energy, promptly tripping on the sidewalk and struggling to steady himself. He strides towards the Haus. It occurs to Nursey, halfway to the door, that he probably should have formulated step four of his originally three step plan before barging in here. It also occurs to Nursey, as he knocks on the Haus door, that he seems to have a penchant for knocking on doors without plans.

Glancing at the window, he notices a tuft of blond hair disappear from the kitchen, and he breathes in the smell of a familiar, homely, apple pie. He exhales, relieved. It would only be Bitty at the door. Bitty was nice. Nursey would be fine. His confidence grows.

“Hey,” he says, as the door swings open, Bitty standing meekly behind it.

“Oh, _well,_ hello again!” Bitty replies, a touch too sweetly, his smile a little too wide.

_Oh fuck._

“It’s _so_ nice of you to come back after yesterday, but unfortunately I can’t let you in,” Bitty continues, tilting his head. His gaze is steely. Nursey gulps, feeling sweat start to form on his forehead.

“And why— uh— why is that?” he stammers.

“Oh, bless your heart,” Bitty sings. Nursey’s eyes widen in fear. “These are the rules for harassing one of my frogs.” Bitty shrugs, primly. “It’s in our Samwell Men’s Hockey By-Laws.”

It is not in the Samwell Men’s Hockey By-Laws, but Nursey’s too intimidated to contest him. “Um,” he says, eloquently.

“I know, it’s a _real_ shame.” Bitty moves to slam the door, but Nursey wedges his foot in to stop it from closing. In the back of his mind, he wonders why people keep shutting doors on him.

“Wait—please!” Nursey begs. “I’m—”

“Our ‘teammate from a parallel universe’,” Bitty finishes, unimpressed. “Yes, yes. We heard it all yesterday. Now, get!”

“Hold on, yesterday?” Nursey inquires, but a smothering hand to the face breaks that chain of thought. “Wait, stop!” Nursey cries, desperately, partially muffled by Bitty’s hand. “I just—” _Come on, Derek. How can you get him to believe you?_ Nursey stops struggling as he reaches a slow realisation. “I know about you and Jack,” he whispers.

Bitty stops. “ _What_ did you say?” he asks, panicked. Internally, Nursey celebrates.

“I know about you and Jack.” Nursey says, louder this time. He laughs, hysterically. “I know about you and Ja—!” he begins to yell, before being promptly yanked inside by Bitty with a hand to the mouth.

\--

“Honey, I’m _fine_ ,” Bitty mutters quietly into his phone, pacing around the kitchen. “It’s just, I didn’t expect—” Bitty glances worriedly at Nursey. “I didn’t expect it, is all. Are you really okay coming down? I know you have practice and then with you coming to the kegster tomorrow and everything that’s happening I don’t want you to feel like you—” There’s a pause. Bitty smiles, adoringly, then starts giggling. “ _Jack!_ That’s— oh lord.” He sighs dreamily.

Nursey also sighs, but for a different reason, slumping back in his chair in boredom. Ransom and Holster stand guard, eyeing him suspiciously under their shades. The lovestruck tones of Bitty’s rambling fade into the background.

“You’ve got some nerve coming back here,” Holster admonishes. His eyes narrow. “ _Some. Nerve._ ” He cracks his knuckles. Ransom raises an eyebrow, menacingly. Holster draws a line across his neck with his finger. Nursey yawns.

“ _Jack Laurent Zimmerman!”_ Bitty shrieks, laughing squeakily. Holster huffs in frustration.

“Bitty!” he whines. “We’re trying to create a _mood_ here!”

“Oh! Sorry!” Bitty jumps, scampering out of the kitchen.

Holster clears his throat, before training his glare on Nursey again. “ _Some! Nerve!_ " he booms. Nursey picks at his ears, distractedly.

“Yo, could I like, get a glass of wa—”

“ _No!_ ” Holster yells.

“Bro, Holtzy. We don’t wanna like, dehydrate the guy.” Ransom reasons, fetching a glass from the cupboards.

“The _mood,_ Ransy! The _mood_!”

Lardo trails in, phone in hand. “Shitty just confirmed this guy’s testimony,” she states, gesturing to Nursey. “He’s a sophomore. They went to Andover together, played for the same hockey team, he apparently went to our Taddy Tour. But Shitty said he’d come down anyway, oversee it personally.” She shrugs.

Holster glares harder at Nursey. “Okay, so he’s not the LAX bro prankster we originally thought he was. He could still be a regular prankster! Or just crazy!” Holster gasps. “Or maybe he’s like, a crazed serial killer who kills his victims by inviting himself into their houses and—”

“Or maybe he’s telling the truth!” Chowder interrupts, entering the kitchen. They all turn to stare at him questioningly, and Chowder blinks. “I mean, yesterday… he _did_ seem like he knew us. He knew that Bitty bakes, and that Lardo likes ducks, and that Holster sings acapella…”

“Woah, wait. I said all that yester—?” Nursey tries to say.

“I sing _everywhere!_ _Everyone_ knows that I sing acapella!” Holster yells.

“I dunno, Holtz,” Lardo says, “Shitty seems to vouch for the guy.”

“Well Shitty hasn’t seen him since the Taddy Tour, like, two years ago,” Holster argues. “This ‘Nursey’ guy could be crazy by now. Like I said, he could be a serial killer for all we know!” he yells. “Bitty!” Bitty startles on his way into the kitchen. “Why’d you let a serial killer into the Haus!?”

“Uh, sorry!” he squeaks.

Lardo sighs deeply, before slamming her fist on the table. Everyone jumps. “That’s enough! Court begins session in half an hour. Have the jury arrived?”

“Dex, Randy, Jack and Shitty will be here soon,” Chowder says.

“ _Randy?!_ ” Nursey exclaims. “ _That_ guy?” Lardo silences him with a look.

“Are there any questions?”

There’s a pause, before Bitty clears his throat, timidly. “Um. Do we have to do this in my kitchen?”

“It’s the only room with a table!”

\--

In his two years at Samwell, Nursey has been, multiple times, a target of the Samwell Men’s Hockey judicial system. There are three things to know before submitting to the hands of the almighty Samwell jury. First thing to know is that it’s based on a majority-rules system. Majority of the votes wins the court. Split votes count against the defendant. For Nursey, it’s majority or nothing. Second thing to know is that the court is completely and utterly corrupt. If you have friends in the right places, or if you can make the right bribes – yes, Bitty, you _can_ use my Netflix password – you’re pretty much set. Third thing to know is that if Lardo puts on her sunglasses, you’re _fucked_.

Lardo puts on her sunglasses.

“State your case,” she commands. Nursey gulps. Tendrils of light peer through the kitchen curtains, now closed, and the rest of the kitchen is shrouded in a shadowy darkness. Jack and Shitty had made it down, and they now stand, arms crossed, in the corner of the kitchen. The stranger, Randy, lounges on the kitchen counter, watching amusedly. Lardo, Holster and Ransom lean intimidatingly over the table, while Chowder and Bitty observe worriedly from the sidelines. Nursey surveys the room quietly.

“Where’s Dex?” he asks.

“At class, lucky for you, since he’s a guaranteed vote against you after what you pulled yesterday,” Lardo drawls. “Now state your case.”

“Um,” he says. Where does he start? He doesn’t even really know what’s going on himself. “So, like, I think I’m in a parallel universe where I didn’t go to Samwell? Because when I woke up yesterday I was in a parallel universe where _Dex_ didn’t go to Samwell, but today I woke up and now _I_ don’t go to Samwell? And I’m really confused,” he rambles, “but like, you guys seem to say that I came here yesterday? But I’m not the same Nursey that came yesterday. And it kinda sounds like the Nursey who came yesterday was like, also from a parallel universe? I don’t really know what’s going on.”

“A _likely_ story,” Holster chimes.

“Wait, Holster,” Chowder interrupts. “Do you actually understand what he means, because I don’t really get it—”

“No, I just really wanted to say that,” Holster admits.

“I think,” Shitty begins, stroking his moustache, “Nursey’s saying that he’s travelling through parallel universes.”

Lardo squints at Nursey. “So you claim to be a teammate from a parallel universe? And you also say that you’re not the same Nursey who came here yesterday?”

“Um, yes?” Nursey says, unsurely.

Lardo looks around the room, and is met with shrugs of uncertainty. “Fine,” she states, “Ransom?”

Ransom slams a folder down on the interrogation table. “We have a test for you. If you really _are_ our teammate from another universe, then you must know us pretty well, right?” he says. Nursey shrugs. “We’re gonna give you five different categories, and for each category you have to have an answer for every person in this room. Got it?” Nursey nods. Ransom pulls out the first sheet of paper, which reads ‘Favourite Band/Artist’.

Nursey huffs. “Easy”. He points to Bitty, “Beyoncé,” then at Chowder, next to him, “A—Um…” he moves to Ransom, “Uhh…”

“Fail!” Holster yells, flicking the sheet of paper away. He pulls out the next sheet, ‘Favourite Movie’.

“Um…” Nursey flounders. Somehow, the answers are escaping him. Maybe he never even knew them in the first place – after all, he’d never really thought to ask. They go through ‘Favourite Food’, ‘Favourite Pie Flavour’, ‘Favourite TV Show’, but Nursey only gives the obvious answers, like Jack with ‘maple crusted apple’, and Holster with ‘30 Rock’. He holds his head in his hands. How did he not know these things?

Holster, looking self-satisfied, leans back in his interrogation chair. Lardo considers Nursey. “Alright,” she says, “it’s time to cast a vote. Raise your hand if you believe the defendant’s story.” To Nursey’s surprise, Bitty, Chowder, Shitty and Jack all raise their hands, leaving Lardo, Holster, Ransom and Randy with their hands down.

“Hey, that’s no fair! Jack does, like, whatever Bitty says, and besides, Jack and Shitty don’t even go here anymore!” Ransom complains.

Jack shrugs. “Bits and I have been super careful about hiding everything lately. I don’t think a stranger could figure us out.”

“Look brahs, I know Nursey, alright, and this is the most unchill I’ve ever seen him,” Shitty comments. “He’s telling the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lardo says, “it’s a split vote, meaning he’s declared guilty. The court rules—”

Suddenly, the door swings open. Wrapped warmly in a beanie and scarf, lightly dusted by the falling snow outside, Dex appears, flushed from the cold. Nursey watches him brush the soft snow off his shoulders, as he takes off his beanie, revealing his adorably rumpled, messy hair. Shoving into the kitchen, Dex lets his backpack drop to the floor. “Hey, I got the group text, but I was in class. What’s the court session a—” Nursey can see the exact moment when Dex notices him, his easy smile dropping into a grimace of disgust. “Oh.”

Nursey’s heart drops. He’d been the receiving end of that look for a good few months in their freshman year, but he’d still never gotten used to it. The look that meant that Dex wasn’t just angry, no, Dex was always angry. This look meant that he was _furious_.

“Hey, Dex,” he says shakily.

Dex raises an eyebrow, ears turning steadily scarlet. “Why the _fuck_ is _he_ here?” he bites.

“It’s, um… nice to see you.” Nursey stammers.

Dex huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Is that right? Because I’m pretty sure your exact words yesterday were, ‘You don’t belong here’,” Dex snaps, gradually getting louder. “Which is funny, because that’s exactly the same thing that I should be saying to you!” Nursey winces.

Bitty places a consoling hand on Dex’s shoulder. “Look, Dex, I know you’re upset, but this Nursey says he’s not the same Nursey from yesterday,” he reasons. “Just, hear him out.”

Dex stares. “You guys don’t actually believe him, do you? The whole ‘parallel universe’ business? You’re kidding, right?” Bitty glances at Jack for backup.

“Is that an ‘against’ vote, then?” Lardo asks. On Dex’s nod, Lardo lifts a hockey stick from under the table. “Then, the court rules—”

“Hold up!” Shitty yells. “Dex hasn’t heard the testimony. We’ve gotta do the test again.” Lardo, Holster and Ransom let out a synchronised groan. Shitty winks at Nursey, who smiles gratefully back.

“What test?” Dex huffs.

“Fine,” Holster whines, gathering up the sheets of paper on the table. “Let’s get this over with. Just answer for Dex, alright?” Nursey’s eyes light up. He knew these. It would be difficult, but if he could get these right, maybe he could swing the vote in his favour. Holster holds up ‘Favourite Pie Flavour’.

“Oh, dude. Easy. Lemon meringue.” Nursey answers, confidently.

Everyone turns to Dex, his cheeks flushed, struggling to hide his surprise. “Everyone likes lemon meringue,” he grumbles. Holster flips to the next sheet.

“Not many people know this, but it’s actually sushi. Specifically, the spicy tuna stuff. With extra wasabi,” Nursey says, shrugging.

“Lucky guess,” Dex whines. Nursey smiles. These answers were coming easier to him than he thought they would.

Next card. “Bro, X-Files.” Nursey hums the tune, poorly.

“It’s a classic!” Dex protests.

Next card. Nursey falters. “Uh. Dex doesn’t really listen to a lot of music, but when he does, I’ve never known him to like one particular artist…”

Dex is silent, and wide-eyed.

Last card. Nursey laughs. “Back to the Future. Obviously.” Nobody speaks for a while. Nursey shuffles in his seat awkwardly, and draws his arms inside. He feels like he might’ve given too much away, revealed too much of his fixation with Dex. But everyone’s staring with expressions of disbelief, not knowingness. Dex breaks the silence.

“How?” he manages.

Nursey shrugs. “We’re best friends,” he murmurs.

Another pause. “ _What?_ ” Dex yells, offended, his face twisting indescribably. Nursey flinches, bracing his heart for another crushing blow. It beats painfully in his chest in anticipation.

“Okay, no,” Ransom butts in, “you had us up until that part, but no. You’re like, the personification of everything that Dex _hates_.”

Yep. That hurt.

“Alright, if that’s it, then let’s retake the vote,” Lardo instructs. Hands are raised. From his position, slumped sadly in his interrogation chair, Nursey sees the same votes as last time. He grimaces. There had to be some other way he could prove himself. Ransom and Holster stand up, ready to carry Nursey outside. “The court rules—”

“Wait!” Nursey shouts, before he even knows what he’s doing. _Come on, Nursey. What else do you know about Dex?_

“Why does _everyone_ interrupt me when I do that!?” Lardo whines. “What is it?”

“Um. I…  know… Dex’s… phone number?” he tries. Holster chuckles.

“Wow. Good for you. C’mon, Ransom.” Wrapping their arms around Nursey’s, they lift him out of his chair. Nursey yelps, and struggles in their grasp.

“Stop!” Dex yells, hands fisted by his side. Nursey startles in surprise. “Just. Tell me.” Nursey can see every breath he heaves, as his lungs expand and contract. “What’s my phone number?”

Holster and Ransom put Nursey down, hesitantly, and Nursey brushes himself off. He clears his throat, before reciting the number, carefully. With each digit Nursey recounts, Dex’s expression drops further into one of pure shock. By the time Nursey finishes, Dex’s hands are shaking, and his mouth has fallen open. Dex’s voice softens to an almost silent whisper. “That’s not my phone number. That’s… that’s…” He swallows. “You memorised it?” he asks, gently.

“Um, yeah?” Nursey replies.

Slowly, eyes trained on Nursey, Dex raises his hand.

“I’m changing my vote.”

\--

_“You were right,” Nursey says, hanging back in the locker room, as Dex ties his shoes. “I was wrong, about the whole thing. I’m sorry.”_

_Dex huffs. “You still think you’re right, you’re just trying to be the ‘bigger man’.”_

_Nursey chuckles. “I’m that transparent, huh,” he mutters._

_“Yup,” Dex pops, slinging his hockey bag around his arm. But Dex isn’t scowling, he’s smiling. It’s an unsure smile, a peace offering, maybe. Nursey’s not fluent enough in Dex to fully know what kind of smile it is, but maybe, in time, he’ll learn. “It’s okay, we can both be right,” Dex concludes._

_“We really can’t,” Nursey says, as they walk out of the locker room together. He nudges Dex playfully, and Dex returns the favour. “Not without being right and wrong at the same time, anyway. Schrodinger’s argument?” Dex laughs, and for the first time, it’s him laughing at Nursey’s jokes, rather than Nursey being the joke himself. It’s… different. Nursey warms._

_“We can totally both be right; it’s called ‘denial’,” Dex explains, grinning, “I thought you were a words person, Nurse.”_

_“I dunno,” Nursey contemplates, “I don’t really like the idea of the start of our friendship being built on lies.”_

_Dex raises an eyebrow. “Oh, is that what this is? The start of our friendship?” he deadpans. “I thought we were becoming mortal enemies. You know, I think I’d prefer that, actually.” Nursey shoves him again, rolling his eyes, as Dex cackles. They exit the rink, and the sun immediately showers them in a bright, vibrant light. The sound of distant chatter and cheerful bird calls fill the air. Nursey feels a warm breeze brush against his back._

_“Alright, alright,” Dex gives in, “you were right.” Nursey regards him suspiciously. “Seriously!” Dex insists. “I was angry, alright? It clouded my judgement.”_

_“And I got too conceited about the whole thing,” Derek admits, “even though you had a point.” They stop, considering each other._

_“We cool, then?” Dex asks, holding his hand out for a fist bump. Nursey bumps it back._

_“We’re cool.”_

_Dex bites his lip, mulling something over. Nursey tugs at his sleeve, pulling Dex towards him. “Wait,” Dex says, “gimme your phone.” Nursey clutches his phone protectively, glaring suspiciously at Dex, who sighs. “Don’t you trust me?” Slowly, Nursey hands the phone over, and Dex taps on it a few times before giving it back. On his screen, under ‘New Contact’, and ‘William Poindexter’, is Dex’s number._

_“Dope,” says Nursey, dumbly._

_Dex scoffs. “Just, don’t call me for anything stupid, okay?” he replies. Nursey ruffles his hair in response, and Dex tries to duck out of his hand._

_They walk together the whole way back._

\--

The television casts an artificial glow on Dex’s figure, perched carefully on the Haus couch, eyes glazed, eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, like a fixture on his face. Nursey lounges back into the couch, his frame slumped, and chews distractedly on his slice of apple pie. He wishes he was back home, in his own universe, where Dex wasn’t so uncomfortable with his presence, where Dex would slouch into the couch with a lazy smile, laugh at Nursey’s constant teasing about how Dex watches this movie too much, even though Nursey watches it with him, every time.

He pulls out his phone and tries a malformed heart shape pattern on his lock screen, though it ends up more like a down arrow. His phone unlocks. _Of course, Derek, you hopeless romantic._ On screen, Marty McFly gets locked in the boot of a car.

“How did you get that number?” Dex asks, quietly. He’s doing the finger thing again, linking them together, like he’s holding his own hand. Nursey smiles.

“You gave it to me, man,” he replies, “though I don’t really get why it’s such a big deal to you.”

Dex scoffs. “I haven’t given that number to _anyone_. And when I called my brother he told me he’s never even met someone named ‘Derek’ before, so it definitely wasn’t him!” he presses. “I don’t even _have_ my lucky phone anymore!”

“Wait, what did you do to it?” Nursey asks.

Dex sighs. “I threw it out. Gave up on it, I guess.” He sprawls over the couch, the tension finally leaving his body. “Seriously though, how did you know the number? Do you even know what… what it _means_?”

Derek shrugs. “I dunno what to tell you, dude.” He takes another bite of his pie. “Hey, you’re missing your favourite bit,” he says, mouth still full. On screen, George McFly punches Biff in the face, knocking him unconscious. Lorraine gazes up at him, hearts in her eyes.

“Hey Dex, say cheese,” he jokes, snapping a picture of him on his phone. In the photo, Will stares at him, mouth slightly parted. _Lorraine_ , Derek thinks.

“You really are my best friend, aren’t you?” Dex’s voice wobbles.

Derek chuckles, softly. “That’s what I’ve been _saying_ ,” he teases. But Will doesn’t laugh. He just looks down, squeezing his hands tighter.

“This is fucking crazy. You just turn up out of nowhere and suddenly I have a best friend?” He holds his head in his hands. “And you might not even stick around for much longer…” he mumbles.

“Hey, no,” Derek soothes, “you’ve still got the team; like, Chowder, and Randy, even though I don’t really know him, but he seems like a good enough guy—”

“No one’s paid that much attention to me before,” Will interrupts. He bites his lip. “You noticed things about me that _I_ never even knew. You knew I didn’t have a favourite artist, which I didn’t even realise until now. You knew my favourite TV show, even though I haven’t watched it since high school. I mean, you knew my favourite type of _sushi_ for fuck’s sake! Like, what the _fuck_?” They lapse into silence. Derek scratches his neck, unsurely. Outside, snow flits softly in the night, and he hears the faraway shrieks of gleeful college students playing in the evening snowfall.

“Look, Will,” Derek begins. “They’re not letting me stay here tonight, since I guess I’m still a stranger.” He shrugs. “So I need you to do something for me.” Will nods, and Derek takes a crumpled post-it note out of his pocket. “Write your new number down.”

Will glances up at him. “Um. Why?”

“I’ve been doing some thinking… about my situation,” Derek says, “and if there are other Dereks in other timelines who are as lost as I am, I need them to know that there’s someone on their side.” He scribbles ‘Derek: Call this number immediately’ on the post-it note. “Tomorrow, you might get a call from a Derek who’s not me. If it’s not too much to ask, will you explain what’s happ—”

“Yeah,” Will interrupts, “sure, but… why me?”

Derek glances at Will, eyebrows raised disbelievingly. “Because I trust you, obviously.”

Will flushes a pleased pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You know," Shitty says, tapping his chin lightly, "I think this has been just about one of the sloppiest legal proceedings I have ever participated in. And I've been to a _lot_ of crappy courtrooms. I mean, brahs, I go to _Harvard Law_. But seriously, interrogation chairs? Quizzes? Majority voting? Who even made these rules!?" 
> 
> "You did, Shitty," Lardo sighs, without looking up from her phone. 
> 
> \--
> 
> I realise that the summary of this fic may be a bit misleading, and that this chapter may not be what you were expecting. But worry not, everything will have its resolution :) . Thank you for all the incredibly kind comments, and for the kudos! 
> 
> Coming up - Chapter 3: Orbits 


	3. Orbits

The room smells like Dex. Like a thin stream, trickling through a thick, pine forest. Like a fresh ocean breeze, slightly salty. Like a woollen jumper, worn and frayed, still warm from its wearer, sat by the fireplace. He lets himself burrow into his pillow even further, and snuggles deep into his blankets. _Another day, another universe,_ he thinks. After everything he’d been through the past couple of days, maybe he could have one day to sleep in; one day without troubles, without the pressing feeling in his stomach, reminding him that he’s not home.

“Nursey?” a voice whispers, hoarsely. “Are you awake?” A finger prods his cheek.

It may be the time of day where Nursey is barely functional, but he’d recognise that voice anywhere, even in his dreams. He forces his body to cooperate, blinking rapidly and sitting up. As his vision clears, he notes the homeliness of the room he’s in – tools and books, scattered lovingly over a sleek wooden desk. A toolbox, well-used, placed carefully in an otherwise unused bookshelf. A Jack Zimmerman Falconer’s hockey poster, tacked onto the wall. And, bent curiously over Nursey, like a gift of the heavens, is Dex.

“Dex?” he breathes. “Will?”

Dex shoots him a blinding grin. “Nursey, you know who I am!” he cheers. He laughs, joyously, and it feels like Summer. “Dude, I was beginning to think—”

“Dex?” Nursey repeats, more awake, only now registering that it’s not a dream; he’s here, Dex is here, with him now, happy to see him. “Are you really here?”

“No, Nursey, I’m not really here,” he says, contrarily, before locking Nursey in a headlock. Nursey, being too tired to fight back, lets Dex drag him down to the bed again. “And this is definitely not my bed you’re lying on.”

Nursey fumbles to free his head. “Chill, Dexy,” he says, sitting up, grinning involuntarily. He tries to shove at Dex, but misses, falling back onto the bed instead. Dex watches, fondly.

“That universe-travel didn’t fuck you up _too_ much, did it?” he asks, worriedly. Nursey scrambles up.

“You know what’s happening to me?” he breathes.

Dex ducks his head. “More or less. It’s sort of my fault actually… well, it’s mainly yours. Or your other self’s.” Nursey lets his head fall back and stares at the ceiling, gratefully. _Finally, some answers_. Dex pulls out his phone, sending a quick text. “We’ll explain it all in a bit, but first—” He lets the phone fall to the bed, and cups Nursey’s face gently, staring seriously into his eyes. “Do you want pancakes or waffles?”

Nursey gazes up at him like he’s the centre of the universe.

\--

The MIT campus is not what he’s expecting. It’s different from Samwell, where the buildings are old brick structures, simpler things. Here, older grand buildings give way to large, complex glass structures; a statement of contemporary design. Nursey admires the buildings as they walk to breakfast, almost wishing _he’d_ been accepted to MIT.

“If you’d already had someone waiting at the pancake place, why’d you even ask what I wanted in the first place?” Nursey asks Dex, who is walking briskly aside him.

“I hoped that maybe you weren’t like the other Nurseys – that you actually had some sense in you – but I guess all Nurseys are the same; too pretentious to enjoy a simple waffle,” Dex huffs, hands bunched in his pockets. Normally, he’d have some sort of retort to Dex’s snide comment, but he lets it slide, preferring to just soak in the feeling of being _here_ , being Dex’s _friend_ , something he’d missed those last couple of days. Nursey admires the tip of Dex’s nose as it peeks from under a cascade of scarves, and he smiles at the familiar sight.

“Who are we meeting up with, anyway?” he inquires, curious.

Dex shrugs. “A teammate of mine. Or a friend. You might know him.” He quirks an eyebrow. “You said Samwell, right?”

“Um, yeah.”

Dex shakes his head, disbelievingly. “I can’t believe— two years! As defensemen!” He chuckles. “Honestly, I can’t even imagine what it’d be like playing with you.”

Nursey grins. “Well, it wasn’t the smoothest first year, I’ll tell you. We were at each other’s throats for a good few months,” he replies.

Dex doesn’t look surprised. “I can imagine _that_ , just…” he trails off. “Our meeting _here_ was a little different,” he says, shooting Nursey a secret, tiny smile. They push through the doors into the pancake house, and Nursey is immediately hit with a gust of warm air and the sweet smell of maple syrup.

“Yeah, what’s the deal with that anyway? Like, am I a student here, or—?”

“Pointy! Nursey!” someone yells, excitedly. Nursey freezes. It couldn’t be.

“Chowder?” he exclaims, spinning around to try and spot the goalie. In seconds, Nursey’s eyes land on him, waving enthusiastically from an otherwise empty table.

“Pointy! He knows me!” he yells, clapping his hands together. “And he used my _cool_ nickname!”

“Yeah, Chowski, he’s from Samwell, and so am I, apparently,” Dex chuckles, pulling a chair up. “And, I guess since he knows you, so are you.”

“ _You_ go to MIT? _And_ Dex? Do I go to MIT? I’m so confused?” Nursey babbles, dropping like a weight in his chair, arms limp by his side, mouth gaping. How could the frogs of Samwell all have gone to MIT? What were the chances?

Chowder shakes his head. “No, you go to Bridges, but we thought you might want to be over here, with Pointy, since, well…” he trails off. Nursey looks between the two of them curiously.

Dex cuts him off before he can even ask a question. “Alright, enough chat. Chowder, did you bring the thing?” Chowder nods, pulling out a small whiteboard from his backpack. “We’ve had to explain this to two other Nurseys, so we’re basically experts right now.”

“What—is this about the universe-travelling thing?” Nursey asks, lost.

“ _Yes_ , Nursey, try to keep up,” Dex smirks. He pulls out a marker and draws a large circle on the card, before labelling it with four points, like a compass. “So, originally, there was one universe, but at a certain point in time, around two to three years ago, it diverged into four separate parallel universes,” he states, pointing at each of the compass points.

Nursey blinks. “Woah, just diving right in there, aren’t you,” he says, dumbfounded. “It’s way too early for this.”

Dex rolls his eyes. “I literally waited in your room for you to wake up so we could explain this,” he huffs. “Be glad I didn’t slap you awake.” He returns to his explanation. “Anyway, so, each of these points is a universe, and what you’re doing is—” He draws four arrows, going from each compass point clockwise to the next. “That. While the universes stay where they are, you’re swapping bodies with other Nurseys every night, going in a clockwise direction.”

“So there are four Nurseys! And four universes!” Chowder adds. “It’s like if the four Nurseys are in a train loop; the stations – that’s the parallel universes, like the one you’re in now – they stay the same, while the Nurseys go around!”

“So, good news, right now you’re in your third universe, which means everything will be fixed tomorrow. All the Nurseys will be back in their rightful universes, no harm, no foul, and all the universe-travelling will end. Better news, you now get to spend the rest of the day with us.” Dex leans back in his chair and gestures lamely to himself, grinning. Chowder leans forward, looking at Nursey expectantly.

There’s a beat. “Wait, that’s it?” Nursey exclaims. “Just like that, it’s fine. What—how? And how are there only four universes?”

Dex shrugs. “I mean, that’s what they told me.”

“ _They?_ Who?” Nursey blabs. “I—Wha?”

“The scientists— They—” Dex stops, taking the time to arrange his words. “You were coming up to walk me back to my dorm after one of my classes,” he starts again, “but you went into the wrong room. And because you’re a clumsy _idiot_ , you tripped and fell headfirst into one of their weird machines.”

Nursey lifts his hand to his forehead, remembering the phantom pain he’d felt on that very first morning.

“We’re still not sure what the machine’s actually for – they had a really complicated explanation for it and we weren’t really listening – we were more worried about _you_ ,” Dex explains. He shrugs. “But that’s how it happened. So, yeah. That’s basically everything.”

Nursey blinks. “’Swawesome,” he says. And that’s that.

Dex and Chowder look at each other. “’Swawesome?” Chowder questions, all thoughts of universe-travel long forgotten. “ _Oh!_ Isn’t that like, the Samwell way of saying awesome? That’s ‘swawesome! Man, Samwell has the _coolest_ words – like, even their nicknames are cooler! Can I change my hockey name to Chowder?”

Dex chuckles. “Yeah, I prefer Dex to ‘Pointy’.” He scrunches up his nose.

Nursey considers him. “I dunno, _Pointy_ , I can see why they called you that – I mean, you are kind of a _prick_ ,” he says, gleefully.

Dex gives Chowder a long-suffering look. “They’re all the same, Chow. All the Nurseys are _exactly_ the same.”

Their conversation is interrupted by the arrival of several giant stacks of gleaming, golden pancakes; complete with a drizzle of sticky maple syrup, and a small, melting square of butter. Nursey drools. Dex glances at his stack disdainfully.

“Waffles are better,” he states.

“Pointy!” Chowder whisper-yells, looking around worriedly. “Not so loud!”

“What kind of pancake place doesn’t do waffles anyway?” Nursey wonders, but receives no answer, Chowder and Dex already digging into their stack, syrup dripping from their chins. Nursey grins, and joins them.

\--

Watching Dex skate is different to skating with him. When Nursey’s on the ice, it’s all adrenaline, speed, with no time to stop, no time to slow down. So he only gets to see the grace of skating when he’s sitting on the sidelines. The slick way Dex weaves through the opposing team. The elegance of his turns. He’s a little different to the Dex Nursey’s used to – a little slower, and a lot trickier with the puck. Nursey’s forced to admit that the three years that this Dex _hasn’t_ been at Samwell has changed him. Chowder, too. Chowder waves at Nursey from between the goalposts, beaming, and he catches a salute from Dex. Nursey waves back. They feel like long-lost friends; people he _knows_ but doesn’t quite _know_ – like friends that he’s only now just catching up with.

Dex and Chowder come to see him at the stands after practice, their skates and gear still on, faces flushed and sweaty. “Good practice,” Nursey says to the both of them, knocking Dex on the shoulder. Dex winks back. Chowder looks between the two of them, squealing giddily, before hugging them close.

“You guys! I’m just… I’m just really happy you know Pointy, is all—we were beginning to think you were only together in _this_ universe, and it was starting to make him really sad!”

Dex scrunches his nose at Chowder’s comment, pushing away, and Nursey snickers, ruffling his hair. “Aw, dude, I’d never forget my best buddy!” he teases. Chowder and Dex both still.

“Wait,” Dex starts, face twisting in confusion, “are we not…” He makes a back and forth hand gesture. Nursey blinks.

“What? What does—” He looks down at Dex’s hands. “What does that mean?”

“You know, like…” He repeats the gesture.

“That literally did not clarify anything.”

“I— Chowder, help?” He looks to Chowder, who just shrugs. Dex sighs.

“What are you guys on about?” Nursey whines, exasperated.

“Are we not…” Will bites his lip. “Are we not… dating?”

There’s a stunned silence. Something blooms in Derek’s chest. It feels like something dangerous, something precarious, hanging on the edge of a cliff, or at the end of a tightrope, high above the ground. It feels something like hope. Derek takes a step closer.

“I didn’t think I had a chance,” he whispers.

Suddenly, everything comes into question. Those evenings spent, sitting on the steps of the Haus, talking about everything and nothing in particular. Their rivalry – the gentle ribbing, the inside jokes, shared just between the two of them. Private smiles, raucous laughter, shared glances. Fistbumps and ruffled hair, winks and nudges, arms wrapped around waists, heads pressed to shoulders. And today hadn’t felt any different. Because maybe that’s _them_. Maybe that’s what they _are_. Maybe, all of Will’s quirks, all of his tiny smiles, all of his light touches and pointed grins and relentless teasing – maybe there had been more to them than Derek had thought, this whole time.

A tender smile begins to form on Will’s face. He rolls his eyes, and reaches out to touch Derek’s arm. “Of course you didn’t,” he starts, dripping with fond sarcasm, “you only had _two years_ to realise—”

“ _Pointy!_ ” a voice booms, shocking them back into reality. Nursey doesn’t miss the way Dex distances himself from Nursey, his hands dropping purposefully by his side, the warm smile dropping from his face like it was never there. A massive, muscled, dark-haired man comes into view, clapping Dex hard on the back. “Good practice, eh?” He looks to Chowder. “Nice saves, Wachowski.”

Dex clears his throat. “Hey, Skinny. Good practice,” he agrees.

Nursey gapes. “I met you,” he breathes.

Skinny glances at him, confused. “Alright? I met you, too.” Skinny makes a face at Dex. “What happened to _him_?” he asks Dex, gesturing in Nursey’s direction, before padding off out of the rink.

“Bye, Skinny!” Chowder calls. There’s another beat of silence. Outside, the wild cheers of the rest of the hockey team echo into the rink.

“You’re not out,” Nursey states. It’s not a question.

Dex scratches his neck, nervously. “We had an agreement. I told Chowder, you told Alice—nobody else had to know. It’s just—”

“We’re not at Samwell,” Chowder finishes. “And the team here, they’re great, but… we can’t be sure.”

Nursey nods. “Right, right,” he agrees. There’s an awkward pause as Nursey avoids Dex’s eyes. “So,” Nursey starts, lamely. “We’re dating.”

“Yup.” Dex raises an eyebrow, amusedly. More silence.

“That’s—yeah that’s, uh—that’s pretty chill,” Nursey stammers. He coughs.

“Mhm.”

Nursey shuffles his feet. Chowder smirks.

“Are you gonna go hold hands now? Sit at the same lunch table?” he chirps, looking between the two of them.

“Fuck off, Chowder,” Nursey mumbles, embarrassed. “Anyway, it’s not like you and Farmer were any better when you first started dating.” It’s an obvious misdirection tactic, but neither of them seem to pick up on it.

Chowder blinks. “Farmer?” It takes a moment for Chowder’s question to sink in. Of course, Chowder was at MIT. There was no way they could have met.

“You haven’t met Farmer yet!” Nursey says, giddily. An idea creeps up on him, quickly followed by a slow, toothy grin. Chowder looks to Dex, who returns an equally confused expression. Dex’s face lifts as he comes to a slow realisation.

“Hold up. Chowder has a _girlfriend!?_ ” Dex yells. “Dude, I’ve been trying to set him up for _years_!”

“I have a _girlfriend!?_ ” Chowder repeats. “ _Where? How?_ ”

“Get ready, Chowder,” he announces. “You’re about to meet the girl of your dreams! Because lucky for you, the Samwell Men’s Hockey team always holds their winter kegster on the same day.” Nursey pulls out his phone and opens Facebook. In a few taps, he has her profile; sure enough, it reads ‘Goes to Samwell University’. He sighs in relief, before enlarging her profile picture for Chowder to see. Nursey hasn’t seen this one before; she’s in her volleyball outfit with her hair tied up, laughing at something hidden behind the camera. She looks radiant.

“This is her?” Chowder asks, awed. “She’s gorgeous! And way out of my league!”

“Buddy,” Nursey says, patting Chowder on the back, “you’re a league of your own.”

Chowder looks back up at Nursey, cheeks pinkening. “Really?!”

“Really,” Dex replies, grinning. “Now let’s go get your girl.”

\--

_“They’re still talking?” Nursey asks, plopping himself down on the grass by the riverbank, next to Dex. Despite the chaos of the last few minutes, and the taunting victory cheers of Ransom and Holster, the river quad is almost peaceful._

_“He won’t stop apologising,” Dex says, exasperated. “It wasn’t even his fault!” He groans, dropping his head to his knees. “Please don’t let me do another piggy back race.”_

_Chowder’s voice carries from behind them; “But really, are you okay!? I can take you to the medical centre if you want!” — and the voice of the girl who had introduced herself as Farmer, “I’m fine, really! It’s just a scratch!”_

_Nursey chuckles. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I think you might have unintentionally gotten Chowder a Winter Screw date,” he says, slyly._

_Dex’s head shoots up. “Wait, really? You think Chowder… and her?” He turns to stare at the two of them, completely unsubtly. Farmer is covering her mouth, very obviously trying not to giggle at Chowder’s enthusiasm for the Sharks; “And I have like, all their merchandise—” They look enraptured by each other._

_Nursey raises his eyebrows. “You really don’t see it? I mean, he literally fell for her,” he snickers._

_Dex looks at him. “So did I, if you replace ‘fell for’ with ‘fell on’, and ‘her’ with ‘half of the women’s volleyball team’,” he deadpans. Nursey ducks his head to hide a growing smile. Dex really was something else. “No, I see what you mean now,” Dex admits, glancing at the two of them as they giggle together. “Yeah, they’re definitely happening.”_

_“—but, like, it’s not even my favourite food!”_

_“Oh, really? I love chowder!”_

_“You think he’ll get her number?” Nursey asks. Dex doesn’t answer, and they both watch as Chowder casually brushes the leaves from her shoulder as she talks. Nursey puts on his best play-by-play voice. “Chowder’s coming down the centre, he’s got control of the puck,” Nursey whisper-commentates, “dodging past Parson, cuts right through Troy,” Chowder makes the face he makes when he tells a particularly bad joke, “he’s going for the kill—” Farmer’s laughing now, and she’s pulling out her phone as Chowder does the same— “and he scores! Chowder gets the goal!” Dex and Nursey whoop and cheer, falling backwards into the grass and laughing heartily._

_Chowder spots them from the corner of his eye, and immediately glows pink. Dex and Nursey send him teasing thumb ups._

_Dex shakes his head, shoving at Nursey. “Your play-by-play was inaccurate, though. Chowder’s a goalie. He doesn’t score.”_

_“I dunno about that, Dex. It looks like he just did.” Nursey winks._

\--

“I love this fucking car,” Nursey says as he shuts the driver-side door, patting the Mercedes affectionately. The Haus sits in front of them, pumping with the wild energy of tipsy college students and the vibrant beats of Ransom’s pop playlist. The boys adjust their shirts awkwardly. Absently, Nursey hopes that Farmer hasn’t spontaneously decided to stay home tonight.

“So, is this where we live?” Dex asks, staring up at the Haus in awe. The window is still cracked, the steps, caved in, and the supporting beams look as if they could fall at any minute.

“Nah, just Chowder. We stay in the dorms,” Nursey answers, patting Dex on the shoulder. “Don’t worry though, they still let you fix up everything in the Haus.” Nursey and Chowder shove inside while Dex trails behind them, transfixed by the building’s many imperfections.

The party’s already in full swing as they enter; there’s a group of people, swaying in the corner by the speakers, and a loud cheer erupts from a beer pong table. Nursey spots Lardo, one eye shut carefully, a table tennis ball between her fingers, her gaze a steely image of concentration. Holster and Ransom stand beside her, having captured an unfortunate group of freshmen, carefully rapturing a tale of Lardo’s beer pong legacy. The familiarity brings warmth through Nursey’s chest.

Chowder stands on his toes, his eyes darting around the room. “I see her!” he shouts over the music, pointing to a group of girls by the stairs. Farmer stands with them, a solo cup in her hand, chatting politely with the other girls. “But, um, what do we do now?

Dex nudges Nursey. “C’mon, mister pick-up. Introduce us.”

“She doesn’t know who I am, though. I don’t know what…” Nursey grimaces.

“Well, how do you normally talk to people at parties?” Dex inquires. “Just do what you always do, right?”

“People usually come to me!” Nursey protests. “I don’t have much experience with this!”

“Guys, come on!” Chowder whines. “I really want to—”

“Hey there,” a voice shocks them out of their argument. The three of them spin around in eerie synchronisation to find Farmer, with a group of other volleyball girls. Farmer smiles. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Do you boys go to Samwell?”

“Yeah!” Chowder exclaims.

“Well, no. We don’t,” Dex informs.

“In another universe, maybe,” Nursey shrugs. “We’re all hockey players, though.”

“Oh, that’s cool!” Farmer replies, her eyes not leaving Chowder. “We’re from the volleyball team here. So, if you guys aren’t from Samwell, how’d you end up here?”

“We drove!” Chowder says.

Farmer presses a fist to her mouth, trying to hold back her giggles. The rest of the volleyball group seem to look at each other, reaching a mutual consensus, before giving a pointed look at Nursey and Dex and backing off, subtly. Nursey and Dex do the same, watching Chowder and Farmer closely. The pair seem to gravitate towards each other; a pull of mutual attraction.

“Wow,” Dex bursts, once they’re far enough away, “that was—”

“Fast,” Nursey agrees. “Faster than I thought. Do you think they’re—”

“Perfect for each other?” Dex interrupts. “Yes.”

“No, I mean, do you think they’re gonna notice that we left?” Nursey finishes.

“Honestly?” Dex replies. “I don’t think they’re gonna notice anything for a long while.” He smiles, gently. “Chris deserves this.” Nursey nods in agreement, watching the couple as Chowder engages her in a story involving many expressive hand gestures, and as Farmer carefully tucks her hair behind her ear, twirling it lightly between her fingers. _I guess some things are inevitable,_ Nursey thinks.

“Hey,” Nursey begins, tugging on Dex’s hand, “you want a Haus tour?”

Dex smiles. “I’d like that.”

Slipping through the crowd, Nursey leads Dex through a maze of students, pointing out the green couch which Bitty hates so much, and the television where Dex would have liked to sit and watch Back to the Future. He points out the little nook by the stairs where Nursey likes to pass out at kegsters, the newly installed Betsy II that Dex would have helped install, the sriracha cupboard, which Bitty had never quite been able to get rid of, and the Sin Bin, which Dex would have abused and exploited for the dryer fund. He points out Lardo as she wins another round of beer pong, and Ransom and Holster as they mourn their epic defeat. Dex looks, and listens, captivated by this parallel life which he hadn’t gotten to lead.

He brings Dex upstairs, ducking under a line of police tape, the music pumping softly below them.

“And this would be Chowder’s,” Nursey concludes, opening the door to reveal an almost unrecognisable room, covered in completely unfamiliar possessions. Nursey grimaces. “Well, try to imagine it covered in Sharks merch.”

Dex chuckles. “Trust me, I can imagine.”

A squealing noise from the other room catches their attention. “ _Jack!_ ” a familiar voice squeaks, followed by a deeper, “Haha.”

Turning around, Dex and Nursey peer through a half opened door. There, Jack, with his back facing the door, and Bitty, his head tucked neatly into Jack’s chest, dance recklessly to the music downstairs. They move around each other, captured in their own little pocket of the universe, oblivious to their audience.

“They’re hiding,” Dex mutters. “I thought… I thought this was _Samwell_.” A furrow appears between his eyes.

Nursey shakes his head. “They are— hiding, I mean— but not for the reason you think.”

Jack turns around. Dex’s breath hitches. “Jack Zimmerman!?” he hisses, just a little too loud, freezing up.

Bitty and Jack startle out of their embrace, glancing, panicked, at the opened door. They freeze, as well, and soon it’s the four of them, stood unmoving in a strange sort of stand-off.

“Sorry!” Nursey is quick to say, placating, lifting his hands in the air. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us.” Bitty and Jack look at each other, unconvinced. Nursey sighs, and wraps his arm around Dex’s waist, squeezing tightly. “My name’s Derek, and this is my boyfriend, Will,” he introduces. He tries not to think about how _right_ it feels, with Dex by his side, and the word _boyfriend_ , dropping from his lips. “We’re hockey players from Bridges and MIT, and—we know what it’s like, alright?”

Jack sighs in relief, dropping his head. He smiles gratefully back at them. “Thanks. Um. I’m Jack, but, I guess you already knew that. Haha.”

Bitty jumps forward to greet them. “And I’m Bitty. It’s nice to meet you both!” he rushes.

They all look at Dex, who stands there, frozen in place. Nursey nudges him, and he startles. “You know what Jack? I’m just gonna say it,” Dex spills. “You shoulda gone first in the draft – not Kent Parson. Also, your ass is shockingly large. Like, it is scary.”

Nursey laughs so hard he collapses.

\--

_“But, like,” Dex says, laid on his stomach, his feet dangling from the edge of his bed, “why should I have to come out, you know? Why’s it anyone’s business?”_

_“It’s not, but,” Nursey starts, before realising he doesn’t have an answer for that question himself. “That’s just how it is, I guess.” He lets his head fall back onto Dex’s pillow, and stares at the ceiling. He snaps his fingers. “Heteronormativity, that’s why.”_

_Dex groans, dropping his head to the bed. “Fuckin’ heteronormativity,” he grunts. “Ruining my life.”_

_Nursey huffs a laugh._

_“I just wish… people could just know this stuff about me, so it doesn’t have to get all awkward telling them. Like, when are you meant to say it?” Dex heaves, “And how do you say it without making the conversation all awkward and serious? And why should they be entitled to know this personal shit about me?”_

_Nursey shrugs. “I dunno.”_

_Dex rolls his eyes. “You’re a real help, aren’t you?” he derides._

_Nursey chuckles, rolling over to face Dex. “You wanna know what I think? I think you’re making excuses ‘cos you’re scared.” He pokes Dex on the nose, and Dex swipes his hand away. “Scared that people will see you differently.”_

_“Don’t fucking psychoanalyse me, man,” Dex protests, rolling onto his back. “It’s just… I feel like I’m giving something away.” He stops. “I dunno. Like, they know all this stuff about me, and suddenly, like, I’m the_ bi _dude, y’know?” He shakes himself out of it. “I just want to do something low-key. Just… how did you do it? Maybe I can do the same thing?”_

_“What, cover your Facebook with half-naked pride photos?” Nursey drawls. “Because that really screams ‘low-key coming out’.” He shakes his head. “Just tell Bitty, first. He’ll be more of a help than me. I think he prepared a speech, or something, when he came out.”_

_“Yeah, but then Bitty’ll want to talk about feelings and shit for the whole day,” Dex whines, “and I hate talking about feelings and shit.”_

_“We talk about feelings and shit all the time? We’re talking about feelings and shit now?” Nursey scoffs._

_Dex waves him off. “Yeah, well…” he says, trailing._

_“I guess,” Nursey starts, shrugging, “there are other, subtler ways of doing it.”_

_And later, when Ransom and Holster take one look Dex’s rainbow and bi-coloured wristbands, they elbow Dex excitedly, yelling about how they’re gonna soon outnumber the mostly-LGBT soccer team. And Dex shoots a look at Nursey, ducking his head, smiling, thankfully._

\--

Nursey stumbles out of the Haus with Dex, Nursey’s hand grasped gently around Dex’s wrist. Pop music thumps from within the house, a stark contrast to the soft evening glow of the moon, casting itself peacefully on the surrounding street. Nursey pulls him onto the road, watching Dex take in the snowfall.

“Hey, where are we going?” Dex asks, as Nursey leads him down the sidewalk. He wraps himself in his jacket, the cold of the night beginning to sink in.

Nursey knocks their shoulders together. “You took me around MIT, so now I get to take you around Samwell,” he explains.

Dex nods. “Alright. I didn’t feel like partying anyway,” he says, brushing his gloved hands over a layer of snow that had piled up on a lonely fence. He shakes his head in wonder. “I can’t believe that _Jack Zimmerman_ wants to go on a double date with us and his _boyfriend_ ,” he marvels. “And that he’s _bi_! The captain of the Providence Falconers!”

Nursey grins, admiring the rare sight of an excited, fanboying William Poindexter. “When Bitty told us they were dating back in my universe, all you said was ‘Wow. Ok.’” Nursey tells him, chuckling. “I guess once you see him every practice for a year he loses his magic.”

“Other-Dex doesn’t appreciate what famous friends he has,” Dex grumbles, burying into his scarf. Soon, however, his scarf falls down to his neck as he comes to another realisation. His eyes bug wide. “Jack Zimmerman’s gonna be the first out LGBT NHL hockey player—” he whispers. “He’s gonna make history!”

Nursey nods, giving Dex a soft smile. “He’s going to give a lot of people the courage to come out.” He looks back in the direction of the Haus, now hidden behind a long line of trees and buildings.

“Like me,” Dex whispers.

“Like you,” Nursey agrees.

They stroll along the riverside – its frozen surface, gleaming in the moonlight. They see their faces, reflecting softly back at them. A portrait of a simple night – just two boys, and the evening sky.

“Dex,” Nursey begins, looking Dex in the eye. He takes a breath, and watches it hang in the air. “I can’t speak for the rest of your team, since I don’t really know them at all, but – there’s one other person on your team who’ll be with you the whole way. Chris isn’t the only one. Skinny will support you. I guarantee it.”

Dex sucks in a breath. “Skinny? You really think so?”

Derek smiles. “I know so. I told you, I met him.” He ducks his head, laughing quietly at a memory that seems like years ago, even though it’s only been a couple of days. “You were complaining, because he kept trying to set you up with a bunch of random guys.”

A slow grin spreads over Dex’s face, and soon enough he’s lighting up the night with his laughter. “That _definitely_ sounds like Skinny,” he giggles. It’s not really that funny, since Nursey doesn’t really know what he means, having never really known Skinny, but he can’t help but laugh along with Dex. Soon, it’s just the two of them, cracking up together – two hockey players filling the dead silence of an empty campus with their laughter.

The pair descend into silence, and they stroll through the campus without talking, weaving between buildings, trees, streetlights. As they approach a bridge, Nursey tugs at Dex’s sleeve. There’s a question on his mind that had been there for most of the day, forming from that very moment that Dex had confirmed they were dating. And maybe he should hold it back… maybe this is information that he shouldn’t know. He feels like he’s cheating life; like he’s looking into his future, but, well, Nursey’s always been a little greedy. He never had good self-control. And he never was the best at making good decisions. So he asks him.

“How did we get together?”

It’s asked under his breath, a hopeful whisper. Will stops, right in the middle of the bridge. He shakes his head. “You were going to ask that sooner or later,” he laughs. “You always do.”

Taking Derek by the hand, Will pulls him to the side of the bridge, where the frozen river stretches far into the distance, glowing prettily in the light.

“You tell this story better than I do,” he admits, shrugging. “But I tell it more accurately.” He winks. They look down at the frozen river, and Derek absently wonders what it’d be like to skate on it.

“We met for the first time at the Taddy Tour, but we didn’t really _meet_ , y’know. I don’t think we even talked. You always argue that you never saw me at the Taddy Tour, but I _know_ that’s just so you can say that it was love at first sight for the second time we met, on the ice, at Frozen Four.” Will blushes, then, and Derek tracks the redness from his cheeks to his nose, up to his ears and down to his neck. “Our eyes met during the game, and… well. This is the part where you’d say you fell in love. And maybe I’d say that too, but it sure didn’t feel like love when you stole the puck from under me and ended up scoring.” Will scoffs, and Derek laughs, his voice echoing down the river.

“After the game— my team had won, of course— not that it matters, but. When we got out of the locker room, you were already on the bus home. I couldn’t find you,” Will recalls. “I don’t know if I wanted to, back then. I was still scared… of… of myself.” He looks back up at Derek, before pulling him back into a walk. The snow begins to cover the edge of the bridge, where they had been leaning.

“The third time we met was by pure chance,” Will says, once they’d crossed the bridge. “A couple weeks later we walked into the same coffee shop—how fucking cheesy is that?” Will shakes his head, chuckling. “You always hated that—said it was such a cliché, that you wanted it to be something _special_. So every time _you_ tell the story, it’s like, at a poetry slam, or an underground concert, or some other place I wouldn’t be caught dead at. But you gotta face the truth, Derek. We met at a coffee shop. You walked up to me, told me that I played a good game, then just… straight up asked me out. Right there and then.” Will bites his lip, and Derek gazes at him, adoringly.

“Just like that?” he breathes.

Will shrugs, beaming. “Just like that.” It sounded so simple to Derek. All he’d had to do for the entire time he’d known Will was walk up and ask him. Maybe, he supposes, it was easier for them when they were strangers. When there wasn’t a friendship on the line. When Derek hadn’t conditioned himself to need Will’s company, to need his approval, to need _him_. Or maybe he’s making excuses. Maybe it really was that easy, all along.

“Was that our first date?” Derek asks.

“Not officially.” Will tucks his hands into his pockets as he walks, reminiscing. “Our first date… you took me to Tetsuki’s; you know, the famous place by Fifth Street? We argued about who would be paying the entire time. That’s—” He smiles, gently, “That’s actually where I fell in love…” Derek inhales sharply, his heart pounding unstoppably in his chest, “…with the sushi there; there’s this spicy tuna roll that they do—”

“Oh fuck you, Will!” Derek groans, as Will cackles devilishly. Derek lays his head on Will’s shoulder as they walk, making dramatic sobbing noises. “You fucking tease!” he whimpers, muffled by Will’s jacket. Will pats him on the back, mockingly.

“I have to get my fun from somewhere,” he jokes.

They walk silently once Derek calms down, but he leaves his head on Will’s shoulder. It feels safe, almost like he belongs there. Like him and Will—it’s fate. _Destiny_. Like they were _made_ to love each other. But maybe he’s getting ahead of himself. Maybe, this whole thing would crumble down around him. Because there’s one more thing he _needs_ to know. He takes a deep breath, and lifts his head reluctantly from Will’s shoulder.

“Do you think there’s a chance that— that you might… that _he_ might not… want me?” Derek stutters nervously, coming to a stop on the footpath. Will stops beside him. The streetlights cast a soft glow over the two of them, reflecting gently off of the falling snow.

“Derek,” Will begins, turning to look deeply into Derek’s eyes, “This… my… how I feel… it’s…” He stops, struggling to find the right words. “It’s… constant, y’know? A universal constant. Like, in every timeline, in every universe; physics exists. Chemistry exists. William Poindexter loves Derek Nurse.” He shrugs and gives Derek a tiny smile. “That’s just how it is.” And Derek’s heart just… stops. He feels like he’s floating, weightless, weak-kneed and starry-eyed. The snowflakes, speckled around them; distant stars, Will is the Sun, and Derek’s the Earth, orbiting him in their own, private galaxy.

A slow grin spreads on Will’s face. “You just fucking melted, didn’t you?” Will teases. When Derek doesn’t reply, too caught up in his own heart, Will laughs and starts heading towards the Haus, kicking up the fallen snow. “Hey,” he starts, a few steps down, twisting on his heel to look back at Derek, “Do you mind if I reuse that line on _my_ Derek? He’s kind of a sucker for romance like that.” Derek looks up, swallows, nods. Will grins.

“’Swawesome,” he says.

“’Swawesome,” Derek repeats, before shaking himself out of his Will-induced daze. “C’mon,” he says, striding up to Will and linking their arms together. “Let’s head back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Approaching the car, Nursey catches a reflection of himself, mirrored by the shiny car door. “Woah,” Nursey starts, poking at his definitely-more-visible-than-usual abs, “I got ripped.” Maybe he should ask Bitty to start putting less butter in his pies.
> 
> Dex grins wolfishly. " _Yeah_ you did." 
> 
> "Guys," Chowder whines, "please stop." 
> 
> \--
> 
> Also for your consideration: "Oh really? I love chowder!" - Caitlin Farmer, 2014, upon meeting Chris Chow 
> 
> \--
> 
> I guess every chapter has to end with an emotionally-charged Nursey and Dex conversation *shrugs*. I hope you were all adequately prepared for the colossal overload of fluff that I allocated to this chapter. This has probably been my favourite chapter to write so far (But so far chapter 4 looks pretty good too ;) , so we'll see). Thanks for sticking with this fic, and for all the comments and kudos; they really inspire me to keep writing! See you at the final chapter!
> 
> Coming up - Chapter 4: Waiting by the Phone


	4. Waiting by the Phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I don't normally do beginning notes, but... this chapter is special to me, and is probably my favourite chapter in this whole fic. I loved writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it, too! Prepare yourself!

_From under a sticky heap of solo cups and leaves, left carelessly in a nook under the stairs of the Haus, Nursey emerges, grumbling and groaning from his less-than-pleasant hangover. As he rolls from under the pile, a beam of light strikes him, assaulting his fragile eyes. He curses the sun, the concept of windows, and all other forms of natural and artificial light, and lifts his arm to shield his eyes, content to stay here, slumped uncomfortably on the wooden floor, for the rest of eternity. That thought is quickly banished from his brain as he hears the very familiar sound of soft snickering coming from the kitchen, because as much as he wants to deny it, he’s been trained, not unlike a dog, to answer to any noise that Dex makes whatsoever._

_Heaving upright, his head throbbing with an insatiable pain, he stumbles his way into the kitchen, and almost brains himself as he collapses dramatically onto the table. Dex, standing by the counter, nursing a mug containing some sort of red drink, watches Nursey, thoroughly entertained._

_“Ah, the rare Nursey emerges from his cave,” he teases, taking a sip of his… well, whatever it is. Nursey glares at Dex’s unusually cheery disposition, but he still notices the slight furrow in his brow and the bags under his eyes, indicating that Dex may just be as hungover as him._

_“The rare Nursey needs you to shut the fuck up,” Nursey groans, letting his head fall to the table. “Is it just me, or is everything terrible right now?”_

_Dex shrugs. “You want some?” he asks, holding out his mug. Nursey squints at it with heavy suspicion. But maybe that’s just the hangover talking, making everything feel unpleasant._

_“What’s in it?”_

_“Well, it’s like a Bloody Mary, except without everything but the tomato juice, and I replaced the tabasco with whatever was remaining in the sriracha cupboard,” Dex replies, taking another sip. “Just warning you though, it’s very spicy.” He smirks, challengingly._

_Nursey scoffs. Very spicy. Dex probably thought ice cream was spicy. “Gimme,” he says, standing up properly and grabbing at the mug. He takes a sip._

_And immediately regrets every decision he’s ever made leading up to this point in time._

_Coughing wildly, tongue burning like a forest fire in his mouth, he drops the mug onto the table like it’s cursed and falls ungracefully to the floor. “What—the—FUCK!?” he shrieks, agonisingly. Dex breaks out into a howling fit of laughter, clutching his sides like a lifeline, eyes wet with involuntary tears._

_“You FUCKER!” Nursey screeches. “Why!? What did I do to deserve this!?” Nursey’s rolling on the floor now, the burning heat spreading through his mouth and into his face, now entirely red and sweaty._

_“What? You think—,” Dex starts, through his gasping laughter, “that just ‘cos I’m a—white guy—I can’t handle—a little spice?” He breaks into cackles again, banging his fists against the table gleefully._

_“You’re fucking EVIL!” he cries, stretching out his hand to Dex from his position on the floor in a dramatic display of helplessness. Dex just keeps laughing, his face now completely flushed, stomping his feet wildly out of sheer delight. And Nursey, despite the throbbing, unbearable pain in his head, and the scorching, fiery sensation on his tongue, is willing to amp up the theatrics if it means that Dex will keep laughing for even just one second longer._

\--

The first thing Nursey thinks about when he wakes is Dex, like he always does, because his brain never seems to catch up with his heart in the mornings. He wonders, absently, as he wakes, if Dex is alright. If Dex had missed him, at all. Or if he liked the other Nurseys better. _You can’t be jealous of yourself, Nursey,_ Dex’s voice echoes in his head. _Watch me,_ he replies.

The second thing Nursey notices is a throbbing pain in his forehead – a splitting headache; a painful reminder of the night before. He groans, and sits up, finding himself slouched on the hard, wooden floor of the Haus, positioned just under the stairs, surrounded by an assortment of party debris. As he slowly opens his eyes, he’s met with the faces of all the Haus’ residents, even Jack and Shitty, crouched down at his eye level, staring openly.

Dex stands by the door, pretending not to be interested. He’s cupping his phone in his hand, looking down at it determinedly. Nursey traces his figure with his eyes. One hand, pressed casually into his pocket. His hair, rumpled and scruffy. His frame, a little lanky, a little broad. His face, perfect. This Dex. It’s _his_. Suddenly, the ache in his brain seems so far away.

“Nursey, bro!” Holster shouts. Everyone winces.

Nevermind.

“Holster,” Lardo grits. “Please.” Ransom whacks him on the shoulder.

“Nursey?” Bitty asks, worriedly. “Are you really back?” Bitty leans into Jack, who has a hand placed comfortingly on his side.

“Well,” Nursey mumbles, sleepily, “that depends. Did I, or did I not, four days ago, try to take a picture of a duck for Instagram, and end up walking face first into a tree?”

“That’s our Nursey, alright,” Dex chimes, removing himself from the wall and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. His brow is furrowed. “I’ve got class, so. Bye.” He pushes out of the Haus, and a cool wind rushes inside, before it shuts again.

“Um,” says Bitty. “Is he alright? Should someone go talk to him?”

Nursey shakes his head. He knew Dex’s expressions – he’d catalogued them, learned them, over the course of their two years, spent. “He’s not angry, or anything,” he says, “he’s just confused. Give him some space.”

Bitty nods. “H-how do you feel?” he asks.

Nursey scoffs, drawing his knees up. “Like death,” he says, honestly. “This is so not fair,” he whines, “I didn’t even drink last night. Why do I have to pay for another Nursey’s sins?”

“Brah,” Shitty says, placing a hand on Nursey’s shoulder, a patented shit-eating grin gracing his face, “welcome home!”

Nursey grins back, through his hangover. Welcome home, indeed.

\--

“So, uhh...” Nursey begins to say, now sitting on the Haus couch, surrounded by his fellow teammates, “what happened while I was gone?” He clutches onto the couch cushions, afraid to confirm the many, many potential things that could have gone wrong over the past three days.

The team look at each other. Someone nudges someone else. A series of complicated, expressive facial gestures are used. Lardo pulls out her pointed glare at all of them from her spot, lounged next to Nursey on the couch. Chowder waves his hands around, madly.

“That bad, huh,” Nursey says, quietly.

“No, no!” Bitty rushes to comfort him, “Not bad at all, just—well, maybe a little embarrassing, is all. Holster will explain it all to you.”

“ _What!?_ ” Holster protests, and everyone winces again. “When did we make _that_ decision?”

“Okay, no,” Lardo grumbles, picking at her ear, “let’s not listen to Holster’s voice anymore. Ransom!”

“ _What!?_ ” Ransom yells, equally as loud.

Lardo narrows her eyes at him. “You’re totally doing that on purpose,” she accuses, crossing her arms. Ransom has the decency to look sheepish. “Fine, Chowder, go.”

“Oh! Okay! Um!” Chowder starts. “So, uhh...” He stops. “Where do I start?”

Lardo looks at him. “From the beginning?”

“Oh, right!” Chowder nods. “So like, three—is it three? Three days ago, you didn’t come to practice, and we were all really confused and worried, and then someone—was it Ransom? Ransom found you—no wait, it was Holster—Holster found you wandering around campus or something. So then we brought you to the Haus, but you didn’t seem to know who anyone was except like, me and Dex... And then you just kind of... started...” Chowder blinks. “Um. Snuggling? Is that the right word? Snuggling with Dex?”

Nursey groans and hides his head in Lardo’s shoulder. “Oh god,” he moans.

“And Dex got really mad and kinda stormed away,” Chowder continues, without taking a breath, “and then you got really sad. Like really sad. And really confused. And everyone thought it was like, a really weird prank or something, so...” He trails off, looking down.

“Eventually,” Lardo picks up, “we realised something was wrong. We thought you had some form of weird amnesia – I mean, we know what was happening _now_ , but, back then? When we told Dex about it, well... he got really worried. He came back and just kind of... kept trying to jog your memory. And then you went to bed.”

Nursey takes a breath as they fall into silence. “Is that... all?”

“Dude, don’t worry,” Ransom adds, reaching out to clap him on the back. “That’s the sad part of the story. The rest is _hilarious_.”

“Yeah! It gets better!” Chowder says, clapping his hands. “Because the next day you explained what was going on! The whole universe-switching thing! And we didn’t really believe it, but then we called this MIT department and they explained the whole thing to us again—but I wasn’t really listening—and then everyone was like, really relieved!”

“And then nothing interesting happened except you awkwardly flirting with Dex for two entire days,” Holster adds, gleefully.

Nursey gapes.

“Oh, but yesterday was like, _super_ entertaining because you were like, drunk too, from the kegster, so it was like—” Holster starts.

“He was all like—Yo, _Dexy_ ,” Ransom starts drawling in a sort-of-accurate imitation of drunk Nursey, “are you a candle, ‘cos you’re _lighting my fire_!” He snickers, as Nursey dies, sinking into the couch.

“Nah it was all like—Hey _baby_ ,” Holster joins in, his impression a touch better than Ransom’s, as he burps for effect, “did it hurt when you, like, _ascended from hell_ , or whatever?”

Shitty shakes his head, disapprovingly. “You know, I really thought you’d have some better pick-up lines, Nursey,” he appraises. “Poor effort.” Lardo tries to whack at all three of them on the arm, but her arm isn’t long enough, so she just flops back onto the couch.

“Alright, alright,” Nursey moans, shading his face dramatically, “I’ve heard enough.”

“So,” Jack speaks up, dropping his chin onto Bitty’s head, “what happened with you?”

Nursey lets out a huff. “Well, the short version is—” He pulls out his fingers, and starts listing, “I helped Bitty get over his fear of telling the team about him and Jack—” Bitty looks unbelievably touched— “I gave Dex a best friend, I set up Chowder and Farmer in an alternate universe—” Chowder, now, looks unbelievably touched— “And then I helped Dex get over his fear of coming out, so. Pretty productive, I’d say.”

There’s a silence. Ransom nudges Holster. “Dude, why don’t _you_ ever set me up with girls in an alternate universe?” he whines.

Holster nudges him back. “Bro, why don’t _you_?”

Ransom looks at him. “Well, I guess the moral of the story is that we should all solve our problems using interdimensional universe travel,” he says, shrugging. “Samwell goes to MIT! Hype!”

“Hush boys!” Bitty says, standing up. “Come on, I’m making Nursey’s favourite pie.” He looks to Nursey. “Glad to have you back, Nursey,” he says, smiling.

“Aw, do we _have_ to have caramel pear _again?_ It’s been _three days in a row!_ ” Holster whines, as he and Ransom trod after him into the kitchen.

Soon, the rest of the team has wandered off, leaving him and Lardo, lounging on the couch together.

“Oh! here,” Lardo starts, handing Nursey two folded post-it notes. “Your other selves left you a couple of messages.” Nursey takes them, unfurling them both.

The first note, scrawled in his own, loopy handwriting, seems to be an original verse which reads, ‘ _The fruit on the tree, / Overripe it may be, / But I’ll take my chances, / On all of these branches.’_

The next note just says, ‘ _Yo D, get the D!’_ , accompanied by a crudely drawn cry-laugh emoji.

Nursey chuckles. “Ah, the duality of man,” he raptures.

“Sorry bro, you’re a little late,” Lardo smirks. “Yesterday’s Nursey already made that joke.”

“Stealing my thunder,” Nursey grumbles, as he tucks the notes into his pocket.

They enjoy each other’s silent company, for a while, as Nursey considers what he’s going to do now. His first instinct is to run to Dex, but he fights it, knowing that Dex needs space. _It must have been a confusing few days for him_ , he thinks. But now Nursey’s back. And he’s going to ask Dex out. And Dex is going to say yes. His brow furrows, but before he can pinpoint why, a familiar, smoky smell breaks him from his thoughts.

“Dude, are you high right now?” Nursey chuckles.

“Yeah bro, the weed cancels out the hangover,” she replies, her head rolling back into the couch.

“It really doesn’t,” Nursey replies.

“Yeah, it really doesn’t,” Lardo agrees, groaning into Nursey’s shoulder.

Nursey leans onto her, trying to arrange his thoughts; jumbled and messy. “Lards...” he starts, searching for the words, “do you ever think about our universe being... predetermined?”

Lardo blinks. “All the time. Why?”

“Don’t you think that... if, hypothetically, whatever comes next is predetermined... doesn’t that take the magic out of it?”

Lardo shrugs. “You wanna know what I think?” she asks, stretching out against the couch. “Chance, fate, free will – it’s all the same thing. You think that predestination is a prison. I say, it’s a reflection. Of ourselves.”

Nursey considers her. “I don’t get it,” he admits.

“Here’s the thing, Nursey. Everything we do may be predetermined – nothing may be up to our own free will. But it’s still _us_ , doing these things. It’s still _us_ experiencing life, and it’s still _us,_ _feeling_ ,” Lardo rhapsodises. “Our future is just a reflection of ourselves, and our actions. And here’s the kicker – we don’t know what we’re going to do. We don’t know what anyone’s going to do. The universe may be predetermined, but we don’t _know_ anything that’s going to happen. And that’s what makes it an adventure – experiencing the unknown. That’s the magic.”

Nursey stares, awed.

“Yeah, yeah, that was amazing, I know,” Lardo grins, waving him off. She slumps back into the couch.

“Thanks, Lards,” Nursey breathes.

“Nah, thank _you_ ,” Lardo replies. “I think you just inspired my next exhibition piece.” She winks, and gives Nursey a soft smile. “You know, Dex kept you company while you were gone,” she offers. “You should return the favour.”

Nursey swallows, and nods. Time to face the music. Standing up, he steps outside, and breathes in the frigid air. He dials Dex’s number. It answers on the first ring.

 _“Hey,”_ Will says.

“Hey,” Derek replies.

He hears Will huff an unsure laugh into the phone, and it knocks Nursey breathless. _“Um. I’m at Lake Quad, right now. Come find me?”_

“I’ll be right there,” Nursey replies, and breaks into a run.

\--

_Splash. The rock, without even skipping a single time, sinks into the lake. Nursey hangs his head, groaning as he leans back into his leaf pile. Dex, pebble in hand, face honed in an expression of ultimate concentration, flings his wrist like a professional. The rock skips, once, twice, thrice, then plops into the water, without even making a single drop._

_He dusts off his hands, and leans back into the tree, satisfied. “_ That’s _how you skip a rock, Nurse,” he taunts, smirking._

 _“Yeah, whatever,” Nursey huffs. “’s stupid, anyway.” He watches the ripples in the water as they grow, then disappear, as Dex pats the ground around him, searching for another rock. Nursey looks around for a distraction, desperately not wanting to embarrass himself in another round of Dex’s rock skipping competition. “How’d it go with that girl, um, Ca—Cathy?” he asks, casually. Her name tastes a little bitter._ Great choice of distraction, Derek, _he thinks._ This’ll end well.

_“Who?” Dex asks, preoccupied._

_“Cathy, from the kegster,” Nursey mumbles. Cathy, with the long, flowing, blonde hair. Cathy, with the killer smile. Cathy, who had caught Dex’s attention as soon as she’d sauntered into the room._

_“Oh. Her,” Dex mutters, sounding defeated. He picks up a rock, and turns it around in his hands. Apparently, this rock’s the one. “She wasn’t interested,” he says, sighing. “Y’know, sometimes I just...” He stops, stroking the rock in his hands absently, considering his words. “I just want to know what it feels like... to be... like Cathy.”_

_Nursey startles, taken aback. “What do you mean?” he asks._

_Dex huffs a laugh. “Not like that, Nurse,” he says, “I mean.” He pauses again. The sun beats down on the grass around them, but the boys sit, shaded by the leaves of a tall tree. “Wanted,” he says, at last. “I just want to know what it feels like to be... wanted.”_

I want you _, Derek’s inner voice speaks up involuntarily._ I want you. _He can’t stop it._ I want you. _He can’t think about anything else._ I want you. _Maybe, if he thinks it loud enough, it’ll reach him, telepathically._ I want you. _Derek’s going crazy._ I want you.

 _Nursey picks up the first rock he finds and chucks it into the pond. It splashes dramatically, breaking the surface of the water, sending ripples upon ripples across the lake. Dex laughs._ I want you. _“C’mon, Nursey,” he says, exasperated, “I’ll show you.” Carefully, he places his rock in Derek’s hands. The contact sends a shiver through Nursey’s entire body._ I want you. I want you. I want you. _Dex curls his fingers around Nursey’s hand, and mimes flicking his wrist._ I want you. I want you. I want you. _“Just like that, Derek,” he instructs._

_Derek flings the rock. The rock skips. So does Derek’s heart._

\--

He spots Dex before Dex spots him, lounging under a tree by the icy lake, tossing his lucky phone between his hands. Nursey comes up beside him, and leans on the tree, taking in the sky’s reflection on the frozen lake. “You called?” he teases. The phone stops moving.

“I think you’ll find that you called me, Nurse,” Dex says, looking up at Nursey. “C’mon, sit. I made a leaf pile for you.” Beside him is a pile of exactly three, shrivelled leaves. Nursey barks out a surprised laugh, before plopping down next to him.

“So,” Nursey starts, “thanks for, um... keeping the other Nurseys company while I was gone.”

Dex reaches up to scratch his neck. “Well, someone had to do it,” he mutters. Somewhere, in the distance, a bird chirps joyfully.

“What did we talk about?” Nursey asks, intrigued.

Dex shrugs, and looks out to the lake. He tugs at a blade of snowy grass. “Stories and things, y’know. Memories. Stupid stuff. Like, that time Chowder and Farmer first met, after that terrible piggy back race. Or like, that time we stopped fighting and actually _talked_ , for once, after that one practice. Or like, the time you tripped on a screwdriver in the kitchen, and I had to catch you before you fucking _brained_ yourself.” He chuckles, reminiscing. “Just. Stupid stuff.”

Nursey scratches his neck. “I don’t think that’s stupid,” he says, softly.

They descend into silence, and for a long time, they don’t talk. Wrapping themselves in their arms for warmth, they sit together, watching as people bustle around the lake, as a group of leisurely skaters take their chances on the ice. They don’t talk as the skaters trip, one by one, on the ice, or as a dog walker, with various, barking, jubilant dogs held together by several leashes, runs past them. They don’t talk when the sun descends low in the overcast sky, or as the skaters leave the ice, flushed and satisfied, or as a bird lands on the tree above them, brushing the snow from the tree’s barren branches.

“I want to tell you something, okay?” Will says, suddenly, wringing his hands together. “And I don’t want you to interrupt.” On Derek’s nod, Will opens his palms to reveal his lucky phone, still the same, worn, peeling thing from all those months ago.

“A few years ago, before I came here, my brother owned this phone,” he recounts. “And he rarely used it for anything, because he wasn’t a really social person, kinda like me, I guess... but he gave his number out to a few of his closest friends, in case they wanted to reach him.” Will’s story sounds practiced, like he’s rehearsed it many times before. Derek is spellbound.

“So, this one day, he gets a call. And it’s unusual, because he never gets any calls. So he answers on the first ring... and it’s a girl. A very particular, pretty girl. One that he liked, a lot, but he’d never really had the courage to call. She was gorgeous, and witty, and romantic, and kind, and creative, sort of clumsy and forgetful – but that was all the more charming to him. He, on the other hand, was kind of grumpy, snarky, and sort of a nerd, but he was resourceful, and smart, and funny, in his own way. But anyway, he answers the call, and as it turns out, this girl needs his help. Because she’d overslept on the bus, and was now stranded somewhere far, far away from home, with only enough money for a single call on a payphone.” Will takes a deep breath.

“But out of everyone, she calls him, for two important reasons. The first reason is because she trusts him. She put her faith in the fact that he’d pick up on the first ring, and that he’d drop everything to come get her. And the second reason is because his number was the only one she knew.”

Derek sputters a laugh, “Doesn’t that, like, cancel out the first—”

“Shut up, Derek,” Will chastises, huffing, “no interruptions.” He continues. “His number was the only one she knew. Because for all that time he’d spent pining away, she did, too. Because she’d stared at his contact on her phone for nights on end, memorising each digit, hoping that he’d call.”

Derek’s breath hitches.

“They’re getting married, soon,” Dex says. He ducks his head, relishing the memory. “So when my brother gave his phone to me, and told me that story, I just—I thought—maybe... maybe that could happen to me, too. Maybe, someone would call _me_ when they needed me. And I’d be there. Ready for them.” He exhales, and paws at his neck, embarrassed. “It’s kinda stupid, I know,” he chuckles.

“It kinda really is,” Derek agrees, and Will scoffs at his bluntness. Derek shakes his head, smiling. “I mean, how would you know which person was the right one, out of everyone who called you?”

At this, Will flushes red. “Well,” he mumbles, “that wasn’t really a problem, since I only gave my number to you.”

Derek lets his head fall back against the tree, as he laughs, silently. Of course. “I think you’re trying to cheat the system, Will,” he laughs. “But that’s not the only reason why it’s stupid. It’s stupid because I think you missed the point of the story.”

“Oh yeah?” Will asks, part confused, part curious, part teasing. “What do you think, poetry guy?”

“ _I_ think that the point is that all that time could’ve been saved,” he says, simply, “if the guy had the courage to call in the first place.”

Will blinks, and stays silent for a while. “Ohhhh...” he releases, eventually. “That makes more sense.”

Derek breaks into uproarious laughter, and Will soon follows. They shake the tree behind them with the force of their laughter, snow flopping down from the shaken branches, tumbling onto their heads. They look at each other, wet snow dripping from their hair. Soon, tears are streaming down their face from the intensity of their giggles, and they clutch at each other, rolling around in the snow, taking gasping breaths.

Eventually, the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of them, faces close, fingers curled around wrists, their hair; wet, cold, sopping messes. But for some reason, it feels so very warm. They lean in.

In that moment, it’s not just a kiss. He feels so much in the space of so little. Their knees, just touching, knelt down in the snow. A hesitant hand, brought up to Will’s face, cupping it gently, like something precious to be held. Will’s own hand, curled slightly, almost clutching at Derek’s jacket, slipping between the soft fabric. The drops of melted snow, trickling down Derek’s cheeks. And the pressure, the caress, on his lips as they kiss, softly, unsurely at first, and soon, even deeper, lost in each other. The taste of him.

“ _I_ want you,” Derek breathes into Will. “ _I_ want you.”

They kiss, and it feels like magic.

\--

Somewhere, in another universe, a stressed Nursey stands in front of the MIT Hockey House, poised to knock. He clenches his fist. _Take it easy, Derek_ , he thinks, _this will only decide how happy you are for the rest of your life_. He groans, and his head bumps against the door, sending a knock through the house. He startles up, panicked, sweaty, and completely unprepared to face his fate.

The door swings open, and standing behind it, eyebrows raised in mild surprise, is Will. He looks different in this universe. He’s a bit lankier than the ‘Goes to Samwell with Nursey’ version and a bit scruffier than the ‘Goes to MIT with Chowder’ version, but somehow, knowing that this is _his_ version, a Will of his very own, makes him absolutely perfect. Nursey’s breath stills, and his mouth is suddenly very dry. He swallows nothing but air.

“Um. Hi,” Will says, unsurely, “again.”

“Hi,” Derek squeaks, his voice already cracking. He cringes. _You’re fucking this up, Derek. He’s not gonna fall in love with you. You’re going to die, sad and alone, because you couldn’t say anything other than a fucking ‘hi’._ He clears his throat. “Hi,” he repeats. _Well done_. A silence stretches between them.

“… Can I help you?” Will asks, startling Derek into action.

“Oh yeah, I’m just—uhh—” _Oh god, you’re such a creep. Who just knocks on a random stranger’s door and asks them out?_

“Are you okay, dude?” Will says, interrupting. He blushes a fierce pink, stuttering. “I—I mean, last time you were here you seemed kinda sad, so—I just—I guess I was kinda worried—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine—I’m good,” Derek stammers. “I just wasn’t, uh, feeling myself. Last time.” He runs his fingers through his curls.

“Yeah, no, that’s—that’s good.” Will bites his lip, nervously. “I mean, the fact that you’re fine now, not that—not about… last time.” He scrunches up his nose, adorably. Derek can’t help but laugh at the absurd awkwardness between them and Will giggles along with him.

“Alright, alright,” Nursey laughs, shaking his head, “can we start over? Just, shut the door, and I’ll knock again, okay?”

Will hides his smile behind his hand. “Okay,” he says, amused, shutting the door.

Derek takes a deep breath and smooths down his hair. He knocks, and as the door opens, he immediately goes to lean on the doorframe, and pulls out his best smoulder. “Yo,” Derek drawls, coolly. He winks. Will shakes with silent laughter, not looking away from Derek’s eyes. “Is there a William Poindexter here?”

“You’re talking to him,” Will plays along, bunching his hands in his pockets. _Well_ , Derek thinks, _it’s now or never._

“I was wondering if… if you’d maybe... sort of…” Derek starts, his voice steadily losing its chill as the question drags on, “like to go on a date with me?”

Will blinks, stunned, and immediately flushes red. “I—I told you last time that I wasn’t really, um… looking…” he stammers.

Derek swallows. Bitty had told him every painful detail of their last interaction, and this was the sentence that had stuck out the most. _C’mon Derek. Don’t lose him now. You’re so close._ “I was hoping, maybe… that you’d change your mind?” he asks, softly. He gives Will a pleading look.

Will tilts his head, considering. Time seems to stretch infinitely with no response in sight. Derek may have died then and there, and he wouldn’t have noticed, his gaze glued to Dex, heart drilling in his chest, each beat thrumming through his bones. With each passing second, he sees their future together crumble. Piece by piece. No first date. No living together. No happy family. No happy ending.

“Alright,” Will breathes, finally. “Yeah, okay.”

And suddenly, just like that, everything seems to fall into place.

\--

Somewhere else, in _another_ universe, an anxious Nursey grips his phone tightly in his hand, a crumpled post-it note in the other. His heart shudders wildly, and he curses every Nursey in every parallel universe, ever. _I must be a masochist_ , he thinks, _or maybe I’m just pure evil. Those have to be the only explanations_. Because stuck as his phone’s lock screen is a picture of a certain William Poindexter, taken as he gazes lovingly at the camera. And in order to unlock his phone, Nursey now has to draw his heart-shaped pattern lock in such a way that it perfectly frames Dex’s face. _Evil_ , he thinks.

“I still can’t believe you got his number,” Alice whines, toying with her phone, lying beside him. “I mean, is this some new type of flirting? Insulting them until they go out with you? You gotta teach me, Nursey.”

Nursey chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, sorry Al, only works on guys.”

Alice huffs, standing up. “Well, you go have fun calling lover-boy. Good luck!” She blows him a kiss as she leaves, shutting the door behind her. “And let me know how it goes, alright!?” she calls from the hallway.

Sighing deeply, he resigns himself to his fate. With a shaking finger, he traces a heart around Dex’s face, and his phone unlocks to the home screen. He unfurls the post-it note, which reads, in a familiar scrawl, ‘Derek: Call this number immediately’, and copies the number written beneath it into his phone. _I don’t know who you think you’re fooling Derek,_ he thinks to himself, _you definitely know you’ve stared at this note enough times to have memorised his number_.

He presses call. It answers on the first ring.

 _“Derek, hey!”_ Will’s voice rings. _“I was waiting for your call. Uhh, I’m kind of meant to explain what—”_

“No need!” Derek squeaks, quickly. “I, um… I know what’s happening. Or, well, more like ‘happened’. It’s—uh… it’s all fixed now. I’m back. To my original universe”

 _“Oh! Okay. That’s um. That’s great...”_ Will trails off into silence. _“So, I guess you don’t need to call anymore,”_ Will says, his voice breaking, ever-so-slightly.

Will’s voice breaking is all Derek needs to inspire his courage. He swallows. “Well, actually,” he starts, “I was wondering if... if you’d maybe... like to go out, sometime?”

There’s a dead silence. Then a loud, bumping sound, as if the phone had been dropped onto the floor. Fumbling. Someone hisses in the background. More fumbling.

“ _Yes!_ ” Will yells, his voice far away. “I mean,” his voice sounds closer now, and he clears his throat, awkwardly. “Yes,” he says, breathlessly.

Derek grins. “Dope.”

\--

Somewhere else, in yet _another_ parallel universe, a very naked Derek lies on a soft, warm bed, propped up on his elbow, his chest flush against the front of a similarly naked Will. He traces the curves of Will’s body with his fingers, admiring his muscular figure, the light hairs, dusting his chest, freckles, dotting across his arms. Will buries his face into Derek’s neck, breathing deeply, as Derek sighs contently.

“Hey, Derek,” Will mumbles. He takes another breath. “I—I want to tell Skinny. About us.”

Derek stills, before pulling back to look Will in the eye. His hand stills from where it had been stroking Will’s arm, and it curls gently around his wrist. “Really?” he breathes. “You want to?”

Will nods. “But I might’ve gotten a tip about who to come out to from another Nursey…” he mumbles, sheepishly. Derek scoffs light-heartedly, playfully smacking Will’s bicep. It was so much like Will to only come out if there was a literal zero percent chance of rejection.

“That’s alright,” Derek concedes. “I told you. We’ll go at your pace,” leaning forward to snuggle against his boyfriend again. Will hums, and his hair brushes against Derek’s chin.

“Also, I’m changing my nickname to Dex,” Will grumbles against Nursey’s chest.

Nursey giggles. “Why? I like Pointy,” he wraps his arms around Will, and brings his mouth close to Will’s ear. “I mean, people need to know that you’re a massive _prick_ ,” he whispers.

Will shoves him off, and glares at Derek – but the smile on his face gives him away. “You really _are_ all the same,” he scoffs, shaking his head disbelievingly. He nestles back into Derek, closing his eyes and letting his warmth take him away. They’re quiet, for a while, sinking into each other’s bodies.

“I missed you,” Derek breathes, his lips pressed against Will’s neck. He takes all of his feelings, bunches them up into his heart, and presses them all into those, three, few words. The desperate ache of not being recognised by his own boyfriend. Those lonely nights, spent, anxious and afraid, curled in on himself in grief. His need for Will to just _remember_. “I missed you,” he breathes, with all those feelings, “so, so much.”

Will nuzzles further into Derek’s side. “I missed you, too,” he whispers, and Derek feels complete. They fall into silence, listening to each other’s breathing, to each other’s heartbeats, keeping them grounded in the moment, _here_ , with one another.

“I’m, like, the cutest Derek, though, right?” Derek inquires, suddenly.

Will looks up at the ceiling, considering. “I dunno, Derek #3 was pretty damn cute,” he jokes, and Derek feels the smirk forming on Will’s lips, pressed against his cheek.

“Oh yeah?” Derek challenges, his fingers coming up under Will’s arms. Suddenly, he strikes, tickling Will with all his might. Will breaks into laughter, squirming in his grip, as Derek grins deviously. “Who’s the cutest Derek now, Will? Who is it?” he teases, as they roll around playfully on the bed.

“Okay, okay!” Will squeals, giving in. “You’re the cutest! You’re the cutest Derek!” He yelps as Derek starts at his ribs, and his laughter carries into the night.

\--

They kiss, and it’s everything Derek’s dreamed about. It’s everything they’d been leading up to. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It’s everything. “I love you,” Derek whispers, and it’s a promise. A vow. That in every universe, in every timeline, Derek Nurse loves William Poindexter. Because that’s just how it is.

“I love you, too,” Will replies. And it means the exact same thing.

He brushes the snow out of Will’s hair as they stand, and Will does the same, patting each other down as the snow melts into their clothes. They lean closer, their noses touch, and soon, they’re gazing into each other’s eyes.

“So,” Derek breathes, “can I take you on a date?”

Will grins. “Yeah,” he replies. “Yeah, why not?”

Derek reaches out for Will, and they stroll back towards the Haus, hand in hand. The snow flutters gently down, and tiny snowflakes flit into their hair.

“So,” Will starts, “where are you gonna take me?”

Derek lets go of Will’s hand, and wraps it around his waist. “Well,” Nursey says, pressing him close, “I have it on good authority that there’s this amazing sushi place down by Fifth Street…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, I forgot,” Nursey starts, rolling around to face Will, who had been snuggling against him. “We need to go and find this guy called Bitty, he makes the best caramel pear pies—”
> 
> Dex grins. “We already have a double date with him and Jack Zimmerman,” he mumbles, sleepily.
> 
> Nursey stops. “Well, that’s gonna be awkward,” he states, sitting up to look at Dex’s Jack Zimmerman poster, tacked on the wall, “since he stares at us whenever we’re having sex.”
> 
> \--
> 
> Sorry for that last bit, I couldn't help myself :P . Thanks to all of you for going on this adventure with me! I hope you enjoyed it even just half as much as I enjoyed writing it :) . All your comments and kudos really inspired me to keep writing! And a special thanks to the person who fic rec'd me on tumblr, and to everyone who reblogged/favourited it - yes, I noticed you, and I appreciate you :D . 
> 
> I have a request, now - if you like, leave a comment with your favourite line(s) or scene! Not only does it majorly boost my ego ( :D :D ) but it really helps me hone my writing style, seeing what people like about my fics! 
> 
> There has been some interest in a sequel in the comments, and I'm considering writing one, but no guarantees. I will, however, definitely be writing more fics in this fandom in the future! They may not be as ambitious and crazy as this one, or they may be even more, but I hope you enjoy them nonetheless. See you soon! 


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